Shinobi Sparkles
by Vegetarian Salad
Summary: Series of drabbles and oneshots. Various pairings. Fluffy. Ch. 50: Konoha Twelve. Narucentric.
1. Greetings

Note from the Author: This is what we call "writer's block," my dear children. Eventually, I'm combining all the Naruto one-shots I've submitted into just this story, but for now, let's start you off with some new ones – and with a new pairing I'm still experimenting on.

And the title of this little group is credited to **Lotus Aia **because I took it from one of her one-shots that I absolutely adore. She is Fluff Queen – go read her stuff.

_**Greetings**_

For as long as Gaara had been friends with Lee, the intensity of his hugs had never seized to amaze him. He would answer the door, vaguely register a blur of green, before falling, Lee jabbering happily all the while.

Gaara didn't really mind though. It was one of the quirks about Lee he'd fallen in love with. Rock Lee was naturally affectionate and talkative – two things Gaara didn't understand how to be. He could feel love – and he did, and it hurt so much sometimes he wished he couldn't – but hadn't yet figured out how to express it. So the adoration he felt for Lee went unspoken and, since the hyperactive boy was clueless when it came to things like this, unknown.

Then the day came that Gaara actually thought to brace himself. Holding his breath, he threw the door open and tensed his muscles, eyes squeezed shut.

But the blow never came.

Instead, arms slid around his waist, pulling him close, a chin settling on his shoulder. "Hi, Gaara-san" was said softly in his ear.

Blue eyes flashed open, more surprised by his sudden gentility than he had ever been by his tackle-hugs. "Lee? Are you okay?"

The arms around him tightened. "I love you, you know." He whispered, pulling back to look him in the eye.

Gaara didn't understand the warm feeling spreading through his chest, but he liked it. Awkwardly, without full knowledge of what he was supposed to do, he wrapped his arms around the taller boy's neck, standing on his toes to bring their lips briefly together. "So this is how it feels?"

Lee smiled, cupping his pale face in bandaged hands and kissing him again. "It feels good, doesn't it?" he asked quietly, burying his face into the mop of red hair. "Loving someone and knowing he loves you too."

Gaara snuggled close, arms around the boy he loved. He had always adored Lee for the loud, enthusiastic way he did everything. But this gentle, sweet Lee was nice too – definitely something he could get used to. "Promise me something."

"Anything, Gaara-san."

He almost smiled at that and, as he pulled Lee's head down for their mouths to connect again, whispered, "Promise me you'll greet me like this from now on."


	2. Smells

Note from the Author: This one-shot is dedicated to Ghost, my cat, because he inspired it by jumping into my lap while I was trying to write.

_**Smells**_

"You really hate me, don't you?"

"Don't be melodramatic."

"Don't they eat bugs?"

"My insects will never be exposed to her."

"You just got it to spite me."

Shino sighed, turning to face his teammate. "It's got nothing to do with you at all."

Kiba eyed the offensive creature. "Why would you get a cat when you know I hate them?"

"Because, as much as this may come as a surprise to you, not all of my actions revolve around your wishes." His fingers ran along the black fur between the kitten's ears. "And I like cats."

Kiba flopped down on his friend's bed, as far from the small animal as possible. "Why don't you like dogs? Dogs are friendly and affectionate and loyal."

"Cats are quiet. They keep to themselves and only expect affection when one is willing to give it." Shino countered. "And you don't have to come over here."

"But you're going to smell like cat!" the dog-lover whined.

The kitten mewed as if to say, "You don't smell so great yourself!" and jumped from the bed, stalking out of the room.

Shino sat down in her place, unzipping his coat a little, and leaned over his friend, smirking.

Kiba squirmed beneath his gaze. "What?"

The usually stoic boy pushed back his teammate's hood. "You'll have to wipe that smell off me, won't you?"

Kiba grinned, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt, unzipping his coat the rest of the way to get his arms around him as he mashed their mouths together. "I like the way you think." He murmured against his lips. "This might take a while – you reek of feline."

Shino groaned as he bit down on his neck. "I think I prefer smelling like you." He breathed, capturing his mouth again.

They broke apart at the sound of a panicked "_Mrow!_" followed by a snarling bark. Their heads lifted in time to see Akamaru chasing Shino's new pet past the door.

He sighed, untangling himself from his lover. "Guess it'll have to wait."

Kiba jumped up from the bed, taking off down the hall. "Akamaru! If you kill that cat, I'm never going to forgive you!"

Shino almost smiled at the irony of it.


	3. Candy

Note from the Author: Older one-shot … the first fic I ever submitted to FF dot net actually. :v for victory:

**Lotus Aia: **It's just because I love you that I blame things on you. :gives you cookies: And if you want to write a drabble – write a drabble:excitedness:

_**Candy**_

He was lying on his back in the grass, a mint in his mouth. Naruto watched with a subdued fascination as the mint slipped out between his lips and was sucked back in, clicking against his teeth. His mouth opened, and Naruto saw a long tongue wrap around the now-considerably smaller mint and turn it over. It was like a lusty, sultry dance.

He looked over at Naruto, and slipped the mint next to his molars so that his left cheek protruded a bit. He gave a small smile with his eyes and rolled lazily to his feet, in a way that seemed ethereal, a smirk finding his lips. "You want one?"

A blush graced Naruto's cheekbones and he looked away. "One. One what?" He had been sure that he hadn't been noticed watching him. When he wasn't answered, he threw a glance up, to find dark eyes level with his own. He jerked back against the tree he was leaning on. "Sa. Sasuke?"

Sasuke gave a careful smile and stuck out his tongue, his mint carefully wrapped in it.

Naruto stared at him for just a moment, then leaned forward and closed his lips around his friend's tongue. Sasuke let the mint fall underneath Naruto's tongue and started to slip his own away.

It was a thrilling, strange feeling – Sasuke's warm, minty tongue sliding between Naruto's lips. Naruto felt a strange need to make that tongue his, and sucked hard on it, bringing a slight startled groan from Sasuke.

And then they were kissing, lips mashed together like they were each other's oxygen supply, wanting nothing more than that contact and love from each other. The mint slipped from mouth to mouth like a battle for dominance, until Sasuke let it slide down his throat and broke the kiss, chuckling.

Naruto gave a self-conscious grin. "What?"

Sasuke shook his head and fell forward, his head crashing against Naruto's shoulder, his forehead pressed against his friend's neck in a painfully affectionate gesture. He laced his fingers with Naruto's, and Naruto let his hand settle awkwardly on Sasuke's hip. Smiling, Sasuke said, "I was just thinking how much sweeter candy is when shared."


	4. Butterfly

Note from the Author: Another older one. When I was going through a phase where I was RPing as Hinata a lot, and in my community, there somehow ended up a GaaraHin pairing. This actually ripped me away from my obsession with SasuNaru for a while.

**Inukitsy: **I think this is one of those "stories" that will never end. Like, every time I write a one-shot, it'll just be added on to this. I'm glad you like _Candy. _I was iffy about submitting that to FF dot net in the first place, so I'm glad people enjoy it.

**Porny: **I like when people snuggle my fics. I also like new reviewers. :gives you some cookies and a hug:

_**Wings of a Butterfly**_

_Heaven ablaze in our eyes, we're standing still in time._

She had always struck him as fragile and skittish, like a butterfly. He felt that if he moved too quickly in her direction, she'd fly away, but if he approached slowly, and if he was careful, she may let him take her carefully by the wings so that he may examine her beauty.

She wasn't afraid of death, he knew (In the way she fought, she seemed to welcome the possibility), but she did fear people – anyone who could hurt her. She avoided contact carefully, her heart so fragmented her eyes – the intriguing color of opal – were hollow with her pain.

So he moved cautiously. He was far from gentle, but he tried to be for her, as not to crush her wings, so to speak. She avoided his touch, but also seemed to beg for it, needing to feel loved, and he, in return, needing to love somebody.

He saw her sitting alone that day, on the dock, overlooking the water. He slid down the bank to sit beside her, and by this point, she was used to his presence. They sat, not speaking – she stared at the water; he gazed at her.

She moved. He flinched – expecting her to slap him, to push him away, to call him a monster – expecting something anybody would do, and everyone he knew had done.

But she just brushed her fingers along his hairline, nails skimming lightly over his pale skin. She whispered, "It's okay to let go" and he had a feeling she was telling herself more than him. They stared into each other's eyes – blue against moonstone – searching for what they were looking for and finding it.

Unsurely, he leaned toward her, settling his head into the crook of her neck, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers stroking his shoulder blades and her cheek against his hair.

He realized after a moment that she had given him her wings.

With a smile, he closed his eyes and whispered, breath against her neck; "I promise I won't break them."

_Show them your love._


	5. Wonderwall

Note from the Author: Another old one because I'm lazy. GaaraHin again. This one-shot is kind of stupid now that I reread it. :hopes to hell no one reviews it:

**Inukitsy: **Thank you, dahling. When I first got into this pairing, I looked it up on FF dot net and was amazed at the amount of stories there were for it. It's an odd pairing – especially since they have no real interaction in the show – but one that intrigued me.

**Porny: **Yay:is excited about fic being snuggled again: No more cookies:bakes you a cake instead:

_**Wonderwall**_

_And all the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how …_

There was someone nearby. Hiding.

Hinata wasn't the best ninja to ever live, but she was good enough to sense that.

It was a vague rustling that could have been mistaken for wind, a chakra – strong – being held back, but the energy was so clearly there.

She stayed still, staring out across the meadow, eyes fixed on the swaying grass as she listened, body tensing.

But her pursuer made his move faster than she expected and arms were suddenly wrapped around her, pinning her own to her sides. She gasped, froze, then smiled, feeling a head nuzzle against her back, a vague purr humming against her. He let her go and she turned, nearly melting at the sight of a smile on her red-headed love's face. "Gaara," she said, her opal eyes softening as she said his name, "don't sneak up on me like that. I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

Gaara chuckled and sat down in the grass, pulling her down with him to sit between his legs. He nuzzled his nose against her neck, taking in her sweet scent. "You can't hurt me," he murmured against her skin.

It was true, no sentiment involved. It was simply true. Gaara of the Desert was a child born of sand, and sand would always protect him.

Except his heart. It was susceptible to being broken – had been many times – but he had decided to put it into Hinata's hands, letting her be guard and protector of it. Ever since, he really hadn't been the same. He was gentler, softer. Because Hinata loved him.

Hinata leaned against his shoulder, turning her head toward his so that her forehead was against his jaw, and closing her eyes. "I sometimes wish I could," she said softly. Gaara's whole body went stiff against her and she opened her eyes, immediately regretting even thinking it, let alone saying it aloud. "Oh, Gaara. I didn't mean it like that. It's just -." She looked away, over the treetops. "You make me feel vulnerable. I'm not strong, I know that. My family doesn't have to tell me; I'm well aware of it. And then you …" She absolutely refused to look at him, choosing to avert her eyes to her lap instead, her hands twiddling together. "You're so strong. I'm nothing compared to you."

There was a silence so complete, Hinata considered running away from him just to get away from the stillness. "I'm sorry, Gaara," she whispered, shifting so that she could climb to her feet.

His arms slipped around her middle, his head against her arm. "Don't leave," he whimpered, pressing his face into her sleeve. "Don't be like everyone else. I know you're not like everyone else."

She gazed down at him, surprised, and moved, and completely overwhelmed. "Oh, Gaara." She stroked his hair and placed a soft kiss against his forehead, on the character that read _Love_. "I won't leave." She wrapped herself around him, trying to envelop him, to get as close to him as possible. "I love you, remember? I wouldn't walk away. I won't."

He shuddered against her, curling up, his head under her chin. "Don't say 'I love you.'"

She froze, her hands stilling on his head.

She felt his lips curl into a smile against her shoulder. "It'll never sound like you mean it." He shifted so that she was sitting in his lap and he could look into her lovely face, black hair falling to frame it. "Show me instead."

She smiled, gripping his hair, and pulled him into a kiss.

… _because maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me and after all, you're my wonderwall._


	6. RolyPoly

Note from the Author: Hinacentric _love. _And spell check pissed me off hardcore just now. Another formerly-submitted-now-being-resubmitted fic.

**Naash: **_New reviewer! _:cookies: Thank you, dahling.

**Porny: **… I love reading your reviews. Because I _always _smile when I read them. :is snuggled: I like being snuggled. :giggleness:

**Lotus Aia: **o.O That is an intriguing pairing indeed. :makes a mental note to go searching for random GaaShika fics: I wish someone I know would write one. :completely inconspicuous hinting: Thank you, dahling. And I love your drabbles, but I'm very patient when it comes to you updating – just 'cause it's always good when you do. :huggles:

_**Roly-Poly **_

I crouch on the bathroom tile, my arms folded in my lap. A roly-poly lies on its back beside the toilet, kicking its legs in a squirming struggle. I tip it in a quick movement, setting it upright before it has a chance to roll up in panic.

_You're just like me,_ I think as I watch it scurry away. _You're harmless, but everyone wants to be rid of you. You don't bite, don't sting, don't issue forth anything poisonous. You don't eat plants, gnaw away the foundations of the house - but we kill you anyway, because we can. _

I sigh, watching it struggle up the porcelain base of the toilet, hold my finger out for it, and stand when its legs touch my skin. Taking it outside, I let it crawl onto a leaf beside the porch and sit down, watching it scurry for cover.

_You're just like me. You have nothing to offer. All you can do is exist, keeping yourself alive. If you had a voice, you'd be screaming yourself to sleep at night because you're so pathetic - worthless. _

I chew on my lip, watching it come toward me across the pavement, settling lightly on my jeans. And then I smile, looking up at the sky. _Guess we have to stick together._


	7. Comfort

Note from the Author: NaruSaku. A pairing I do not write as a general rule, just because I'm a NaruSasu _whore._ Although, in all reality, Naruto and Sakura wouldn't be all "_Angst_" if Sasuke hadn't left them to fend for themselves for lovin' (although in my version of Naruto reality, Sakura didn't get any anyway). It's another I-already-submitted-this-but-I'm-awesome-so-I'm-adding-it-to-this-story fic. And my computer just alerted me that "NaruSaku" is not a word. The correction it gave me? "NaruSasu." I love my life.

I disclaim Naruto and "Miss Murder." For the record, new emo-hardcore AFI needs to _die._

**Lotus Aia: **If you write GaaShika … I don't know what I'll do. I'll cry. Maybe not. I'll bake you a virtual cake.You know – I'm a roly-poly kinda girl myself. I _never _kill them. I freak out when I even find them dead, actually. And I always let them out of my house and whatnot if I see them. Actually "Roly-Poly" wasn't originally a fan fic – just a random bit of prose I wrote – the "I" actually being me - where it was like, "Gee. This fits Hinata. Why does my life suck so much that I can't write prose without thinking of FF dot net?"

**Naash: **Thank you. I live for different approaches.

**Book-manga-freak: **Aw, you're sweet. :gives you a hug: I'm surprised at the amount of people unfamiliar with GaaHina, because it seems to be a huge pairing on FF dot net.

_**Comfort**_

_The stars that mystify - he left them all behind, and now his children cry. He left us all...behind._

It had begun gently. Fingers stroking arms, running through hair, tangling with other fingers.

Gently. Soft touches, and lingering hugs, lips brushing skin.

Gently. That first wide-eyed embarrassed connection of mouths. And then it was rough. They comforted each other with their bodies, hiding their pain in a physical love, wanting to fill the empty of loneliness with anything tangible, anything they could pull against them and hold onto.

She clung to him as a shoulder to cry on, and he clung to her as a hand to hold. They were just children, alone and closed but for each other, drawing strength from each other that they didn't know they had.

They had stopped crying long ago, and had become mute when not together. They had lost their ability to be honestly happy, and he didn't smile much anymore, and she didn't speak much anymore, but they were able to fool themselves into being able to play pretend, when they were together.

Their sense of loss would have been unbearable but for the love they thought they felt for each other, and the empty place beside them filled a little when they walked with their arms around each other's waists.

Her friends saw them and smiled. She was quieter, but seemed so content.

His friends saw them and grimaced. He was quieter, and he was pretending to be content.

Sooner or later, they would realize that pretending wasn't working; sooner or later, their lives would become separate and distanced. But for now, they were content to fool themselves into thinking they were happy.

_What's the rift that twists within this furthest mystery? I would gladly bet my life upon it, at the cost of love, your ray of light will fizzle out without hope. When the empty sand just flowing through our empty skin, ever searching for what we were promised, reaching for the golden ring we never let go, they won't ever let us lay our filthy hands upon it._


	8. Firefly

Note from the Author: Here's another random not-originally-written-as-fan-fiction-but-somehow-ended-up-that-way fic.

I guess it's NaruSasu. And I don't care which POV you take – it works both ways.

_**Firefly**_

I wonder if you were a firefly.

Flashing into existence, fading away, forcing the mind to consider that maybe you were never there at all, just a fleeting glimpse of a passing fancy, until you spark up again, and I was sure of it this time, you were real.

I remember vividly the way I caught you, wrapping my arms around you - like cupping you in my hands, sneaking delightfully sinful little gazes through my fingers at your evanescent beauty.

I didn't realize how trapped you were in my embrace - panicking, dizzied, frenzied, wing beats against my skin – until I let you go and you didn't come back - I set you free and you flew away.

I wonder sometimes if you were a firefly ...

After all, I never saw you by daylight.


	9. Together

Note from the Author: Another really old NaruSasu one! Yay!

**Porny: **:flails: It's okay! I uploaded, like, three chapters in one day! Yeah, my jokes and things that happen usually come from life too. For example, in "Catch Without Arms" in the pool scene, where Hinata was making wet footprints, that was actually a reflection of me doing the same thing beside my pool a few hours before I'd written it. You know, for "Firefly" I was actually thinking it was more Naruto's POV. Because Sasuke went away. :sniffles and hugs Hinata plushy:

**Lunarxshinobi: **Well, first of all, _new reviewer! _:throws cookies: Second of all, yes. I do indeed feel like updating.

**Book-manga-freak: **It made me giggle that NaruSaku wasn't a word but NaruSasu was. Also, I have a reviewer named "Kichou" and it used to tell me it was wrong and corrected it as "Kikyou" and that made me giggle.

_**As Long As You're By My Side**_

_That first moment we shared a glance at one another, a scent of a feeling was in the air of a very familiar smile._

There was a strange look on Naruto's face. It seemed as if he was deep in thought. To be honest, I didn't know how to react to that. I was so used to him just talking, never really paying attention to what came out of his mouth, as if he was trying to fill empty space. And now he was silent, pensive, and I wondered why.

We had just returned from a mission and were relaxing on the dock on the lake, letting the water wash away our fatigue. Naruto and I, somewhere along the road, had become friends and, though most of the time we spent together was spent in silence, we were close, and we knew each other well.

"What is it, Naruto?" I ventured to ask of the quiet blonde boy.

He smiled at me. "I was just remembering."

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around my bare knees as the cool breeze made goose bumps form along my skin. "Remembering what?"

Here he chuckled. "About when we first met Kakashi. That day he tested us to see if he would take us as students … do you remember?"

I did. Kakashi had said he was going to fail all of us out of the program because we didn't work as a team, but he gave us a second chance. He had tied Naruto to a log for trying to get food before we were allowed to have it, and told us not to let him have any, or we'd fail by default. I had shared my lunch with him, and in the end, that's what Kakashi had wanted us to do.

I nodded, staring out across the water to where the sun was beginning to set. "Yeah, I remember." I said quietly. "What would make you think about that?"

Naruto leaned back on his hands. "I was thinking about how you guys forgot to untie me. I was really kind of hurt." He laughed self-consciously. "I was so used to people forgetting about me, but it tore at me when it happened." He was quiet for a moment, his eyes tracking a hawk that soared across the sky over the water. "I was thinking about how you turned around, and saw me there, and you smiled, and it seemed so genuine, like you were actually happy to see me. You came back to untie me, and walked with me home." He sighed contentedly. "Every time we fought, or you irritated me, I thought about that, and it kept me from killing you."

I snorted skeptically. "Like you could kill me."

Naruto grinned, then shrugged, but didn't argue. His smile faded away. "When I thought Haku had killed you, your smile just kept playing through my mind, driving my rage. It was like all I had been working for was gone – my only friend was dead. It killed me a little."

I sighed and set my chin on my arms, letting my black hair blow across my face. "You know something?" I waited until he looked at me to continue. "Sometimes I think you're the only reason I don't regret not dying that day. I remember as I fell, all I could think was, 'At least Naruto is alright.' I didn't care about what happened to me. I still don't sometimes."

He gripped my hand and pulled it into his lap. I closed my eyes as it lay warm between his stomach and his palm. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that." He said quietly, his voice quaking slightly. "All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. I get so frustrated when I can't get you to smile, or to even tease me, like I've failed somewhere." He looked over at me, his wide blue eyes shining. "There will always be a part of me that loves you and just wants to make you happy, to make you feel like life is worth living."

I didn't know what to say. I just sat and looked at him as we held hands and he looked back at me. I had spent my life pushing everyone away, not letting anyone get close enough to hurt me. But in shutting myself off from the chance of pain, I was shutting myself off from the chance of love too.

I pulled my hand away from his and uncurled my legs. I slipped my arms around his middle, settling my head against his chest, my hands fisting in the fabric of his orange jacket. He didn't say anything, just wrapped an arm around my waist and laid his cheek against my hair. We sat there like that for what felt like hours, but it was perfect, and I was happy. Slowly, I felt my lips curve up into a smile.

_There will be many sad feelings come to hold me down but I'll never be hurt by sadness again as long as you're by my side._


	10. Storms

Note from the Author: … I love people. And here's a little secret - :shifty eyes: I love you guys too. The only explanation I'm offering for this story is that it stormed this morning, I was driving in it, had a panic attack, and started writing in my head to alleviate it.

**Book-manga-freak: **o.O You're so excitable. And that makes me feel good inside.

**Porny: **… Yes. Because there are so many choices to choose from. :is glomped and loved it:

**Naash: **o.O Haven't you noticed yet? I'm Queen Angst.

_**Storms**_

"_We are standing in the storm of our own being."_

Uzumaki Naruto loved storms.

He loved the hum of the rain clattering on the roof, the firefly flashes of lightning, the purr of thrumming thunder.

He loved the isolation that bad weather brought.

He spent most – if not all - of his waking hours trying to prove himself to those around him, to draw their attention to him. But in the storms – during the storms, he didn't have to impress anyone. In the rain, he could be simply Naruto and love the world just the way Naruto would.

But _this _storm made him, not just content, but honestly happy.. _This _lightning came from a hand instead of the sky. _This _thunder was locked in a pair of brooding eyes. _This _rain was dark hair brushing against his neck.

Naruto loved every different kind of storm – thunderstorms, lightning storms, rainstorms. But the one he loved the most was named Uchiha Sasuke.

0

Uchiha Sasuke had always been secretly afraid of thunder.

It was too loud, often disrupting his thoughts. He'd always thought that not having to think would be a blessing. But surprisingly, that wasn't the case. His brain echoed with the clapping of the thunder – the angry sound rocking around inside his head. Covering his ears didn't do anything to alleviate the ache it caused – now it was inside him, vibrating through his bones, and he was going crazy.

His bedroom was dark, and where it was usually cool, now it was unbearably warm with the humidity the rain brought. He thrashed about beneath his blankets, feeling feverish – vaguely aware that it was all in his head – that fear was an emotion best left ignored – but the teachings of the Academy didn't help it to dim.

Fingers slid across his cheek, hushing him gently, a forehead pressed against his temple. "It's okay," a voice whispered. "I'm here."

Relaxing immediately, not caring that he was acting like a child, he buried his face into Naruto's chest and let him protect him from the storm.


	11. Pearls

Note from the Author: So this is dedicated to my sister, Furuido, because it's _all her fault_. Well, maybe not. I'm just going to blame her because when I watched the episode I got this idea from – I was sitting with her.

Enjoy.

**Porny: **It was a storm panic attack. I can't drive during rain at all. It scares the shit out of me. So I had to pull over and call my mom and I was fretting. Anyway, thank you.

_**Your Pearls To Swine**_

"_It's not a fruitful thing, you know,_

_To let your life decline;_

_It's not a fruitful thing, I know,_

_To lose your pearls to swine."_

"To your feet, Sasuke-_kun._" Kabuto had never used the suffix respectfully. Sasuke knew it too. It was just another way to drive the insolent kid up the wall.

But the younger boy did as he was told and began his struggle upward.

"Orochimaru-same is quite fond of you." Kabuto commented casually as he looked to the sky, heaving a sigh, as if this was really much more of a bother than it was worth. "Though you really aren't very strong."

Pale hands clenched the grass, but Sasuke didn't speak.

Kabuto's eyes hardened behind his glasses. "Up."

The Uchiha finally reached his feet. "I'll get stronger." His teeth clenched as he ran at his trainer.

He was on the ground again before he knew it.

"You're really nothing more than a helpless little piglet, aren't you?" Kabuto crouched beside him, lifting his head by the hair. "On your feet – we will do it again.

"That's enough, Kabuto" came the gravelly voice of his master.

He stood and bowed his head toward him. "Yes, Orochimaru-sama."

Sasuke climbed to his feet much more quickly this time, a dark look on his face - a gesture that said, "I'm not going to let _him _see me weak."

Kabuto had the urge to backhand him for his impertinence, but Orochimaru just smiled. "You're improving, Sasuke-kun."

The silver-haired man beside him had trouble hiding his shock at the praise – probably because he had never been praised. _He's afraid he'll lose Sasuke,_ he thought bitterly, eyes averted, _and he always knew I'd be at his side through everything._

It was true. Kabuto loved Orochimaru – and would follow him into any danger, would protect him always. He was like a pearl – a true, real pearl – unusual and rare – fascinating.

"Kabuto." The voice was commanding, and forced the person it was directed at to answer.

"Yes?" He hated himself for the hope that echoed through his tone.

"Escort Sasuke-kun to his quarters."

"Yes." He hated himself more for the sheer disappointment.

0

"Kabuto."

He turned away from the sunset – from the horizon he had been watching for signs of ninja returning from missions – and bowed respectfully. "What can I do for you, Orochimaru-sama?"

He grinned in that sick way that Kabuto somehow admired and stepped up beside him, studying the sun – as if trying to realize how to capture its power. "Tell me – why do you envy Sasuke-kun?" he asked, almost mocking him.

Orochimaru was insightful. Kabuto should have known he wouldn't go unnoticed. "I envy your affection for him." He answered honestly, turning his eyes away.

They were silent a long time. It was unusual, because Orochimaru said anything that ever came to his mind. "Affection is such a strange word." He finally murmured, tone serious. "It's a double-crossing word." An almost gentle smile came across his face.

He was beautiful, standing with his pallid face aglow in the dusk. "Double-crossing, Orochimaru-sama?"

"Yes." Black hair fell before his face as his head tilted toward the ground. "Affection is bittersweet."

Kabuto wanted to ask further of his meaning, but knew better than to push it, and decided to be grateful for what he _had _offered.

In a moment he didn't really remember, Orochimaru had pulled him into his arms and had kept him there. He stared up at him, shock scrawled clearly across his face. "Orochimaru-sama?"

"Kabuto."

His mouth closed at the silent command to do so.

"Kabuto, I don't really understand love." He tilted the silver head up, brought their lips together. "But I suppose I feel affection for you."

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Additional A/N: o.O Orochimaru is hardcore OOC. _I'm sorry, Carianne!_


	12. Beginning

Note the from the Author: I got this idea after watching episode ninety-eight again.

Elizabethan fun fact: I love classical literature. :blames Vladimir Nabokov and Edgar Allen Poe for the style this is written in: It's that kind of literature that's supposed to seem like poetic journalism – it's something Poe does often that I adore. And anyone who has read _Lolita _knows this is how Nabokov writes as well.

**Porny: **Yes, well, at least I have come to terms with Orochimaru's OOCness.

He _does _look like Voldemort … except Voldemort is bald. Actually, on DeviantArt, I found a great fan art piece that was Kabuto and Orochimaru and Harry Potter's, like, kicking at Orochimaru and flailing his wand, and Orochimaru's all like, "Kabuto – what is this?" and Kabuto holds up one of his little card dealies and says, "That's Harry Potter, sir. But I don't know what his problem is – I think he's just a mean mofo."

… Just thought I'd share. o.O

**Furuido: **I am very proud of my Kabuto. Do you see it? Do you see the pride:pride:

I disclaim Naruto and "The Coliseum."

_**It Had Begun**_

"_Vastness! And age! And Memories of Eld!_

_Silence! And desolation! And dim Night!_

_I feel ye now – I feel ye in your strength." _

There were often misunderstandings when one didn't proclaim clearly what one thought, or felt, or needed. Here are the facts of one such case.

Tsunade had chalked Naruto's quiet departure from Sasuke's hospital room up to consideration for the feelings of Sakura, who had joyously embraced the healed and unresponsive Uchiha when he awoke.

But really – Naruto had left because he was as selfish as he'd ever been. He'd felt an emotion he didn't understand and didn't like: _jealousy._

Upon hearing that, one may think: Did he care so deeply for Sakura as that? Or did he just envy the affection of others simply because he wasn't overly familiar with it himself?

Once again, his feels and actions would be tainted with misconception – one thing he _was _overly familiar with.

He had, with Jiraiya, spent weeks tracking down the elusive and retired med nin, Tsunade, so that she might heal the people he care for and – on a far less important note at the time – to become the Fifth Hokage. He had searched for her because he needed her to fix the broken person he cared for most in the world.

Uchiha Sasuke.

Now, the listener may be shocked. Or maybe one is pondering: Might it be platonic? Might he consider him just a dear friend, as well as a rival?

The simplest answer would be: "No." Naruto felt for Sasuke as deeply as Sakura ever had – deeper, really, since her 'love' for him was based more on a physical attraction.

But it never really had been about the pink-haired kunoichi. She had been a stepping stone – the mediator that had kept each of them from ripping out the throat of the other long enough for them to realize that they were a perfect team – and left Naruto wishing they were so much more.

Often, we say unrequited love is the sweetest – especially when it remains unconfessed. It ripens, blooms, festers in the heart – never fading – and no one will ever be hurt in the process.

It had begun when they were twelve and thirteen years old.

Uzumaki Naruto loved Uchiha Sasuke.

It would take him years to realize that, as Sakura's wrapped around Sasuke's shoulders,

Sasuke's eyes had been on him.

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Additional A/N: I need to get over this morbid hatred I have for Sakura and my love of making her suffer.


	13. Voodoo

Note from the Author: So I'm cleaning off my bookshelf, because we're painting my room. And I run across _The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and Other Stories _by Tim Burton. So I decide to reread it, because I haven't seen it in a while. And also, I haven't written any NejiHina in a while.

So I got the idea for this. Oh, yes, don't be mistaken – this is also Elizabeth procrastinating on _Catch Without Arms. _Yes, indeed. :needs sleep and breakfast:

**Porny: **o.O You're always the first one to review the one-shots I do in this story. And that's awesome. _Sweet! _I'm not the only one who's too aware for her own good. Haha.

**Naash: **I'm glad. I'd be thoroughly upset if I lost my favorite reviewers because they got bored. -.-

_**Voodoo Girl**_

She was like her own voodoo doll – imaginary pins sunk into various points of her porcelain flesh, causing her pain with every movement, every action, every decision.

And what was most melancholy and pitiable about this was that she couldn't be embraced – and she couldn't embrace others – because the closer she got, the more the needles pierced through her heart. She was alone.

That is, until she realized that he could see the pins and, one by one, began to pull them out.


	14. Different

Note from the Author: … Where the hell are these coming from?

**Naash: **It's NejiHina. If there aren't names in the story and it's a hetero pairing, one can usually assume it's NejiHina. And thank you.

**UmiKodu-chan: **Oh, you're so sweet. :hugs:

**Porny: **… You're not the first this time:whimpers and clings: Anyway, thank you.

**Conafrex: **Why, thank you, dahling. I really do appreciate all your wonderful comments.

**Lunarxshinobi: **Thank you, dahling.

_**Different**_

Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata were very different.

Neji – he was strong. He was aggressive, angry. He had given up a long time ago – stopped trying, stopped really caring. Neji was – if one could sum him up in one word – hollow. His heart was cold, because it was broken, and all of the heat had seeped from the cracks.

Hinata – well, she wasn't strong. She was shy, kind. She never gave up, because she wanted to be worth something – wanted to show everyone that she could change. And where he was empty, Hinata was too full. Her heart was overflowing with compassion, and it was killing her.

But they weren't completely different. They were lost in the ways of fate, though he had stopped trying to change it, and she refused to stop. They were both longing for someone to care.

So – was it really that surprising that when they turned to each other?


	15. Covering

Note from the Author: I'm on a roll today. Deal with it.

**Porny: **Oh, my _God. _I wanted to _destroy _FF dot net. It took me _forever _to get the first chapter of "Surrender" up – and then it took me forever and a _day _to get "Different" up. I almost killed myself. -.- But on the bright side! You're the first to review! waves Porny flag and hugs you

_**Covering**_

Kiba liked Shino's coat.

Shino's coat hid the scars on Shino's arms.

The scars on Shino's arms reminded Kiba that he couldn't protect him.

Of course, Shino was a talented ninja and didn't need to be protected. But Kiba _wanted _to protect him – because that's what one does for any member of his pack.

Yes, Kiba considered Shino part of his pack – his mate even. So it killed him a little that he couldn't be there to save him.

Of course, he felt better after he'd voiced his worries and Shino had promised that all he wanted was for Kiba to lick his wounds.

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Additional A/N: Random thing that popped into my head. It's not even well-written. I just liked the idea.


	16. Poise

Note from the Author: I will tell you now – this did not come out like I was hoping it would. -.- I didn't get the point across that I was trying to and that makes me sad inside. And the prompt for it was the word "poise." Yes, I know – I get inspiration from odd things.

**Conafrex: **It makes me really warm and fuzzy inside when people say they like a pairing because of me. :hugs:

**PIE IS FILLED WITH AWESOMENESS: **You make me feel happy inside.

**UmiKodo-chan: **Thank you. :hugs:

**Porny: **Of _course _there's a Porny flag! I made it myself:proud: I always kind of liked the "pack" thing too. So I really wanted to try and incorporate that into a drabble-love type thing.

**Random Projects: **Just because you're a new reviewer, chapter seventeen is going to be LeeGaa.

**_Poise_**

No one who knew Hinata would call her _graceful_ or _confident_. She was quiet, self-conscious, and she shrunk beneath criticizing gazes.

But the people close to her, the ones who knew her best, would refer to her as _poised. _She was proud and kind, above returning hurtful words but not so high that she offered them first. And the people familiar with her recognized the little nuances that made her Hinata – they recognized the small gestures that she gave to show she cared.

Kiba knew he wasn't funny – Shino had told him many times – but Hinata always giggled at his awful jokes. She wasn't fond of speaking, but always did with him, because he always fell into dejection when no one talked to him.

Shino was close to silent all the time, and Hinata respected that, neither ignoring him nor forcing him into conversation – wanting him to be comfortable with their team.

She was forever patient with Neji's hatred for her, as if she knew that it would eventually fade – which it did. She managed to pull the gloom out of his heart and, with her quiet persistence, had even gotten him to really smile again.

Hinata had changed over the years – had grown into a mature woman – and a brilliant kunoichi – who could defend herself and take care of the people she loved. Those who knew her recognized the difference; most wouldn't. But the new girl she was – _strong –_ knew that most people weren't the ones that mattered.


	17. Real

Note from the Author: This is a request … ish … thing from _Random Projects. _She asked for LeeGaa – I complied. -.-

**Aori Kenji: **Thank you.

**MissMelody21: **I've never tried to write a ShinoHina before, but I take requests – so I shall!

**UmiKodo-chan: **Hinata is my favorite female character too. And you're uber-welcome.

**Porny: **I like writing about Hinata, because I can definitely empathize with her – and I'm glad it was enjoyable, because I didn't like it at all. -.- It didn't really come out how I wanted.

_**Real**_

_What will I be today?_

It was a question Rock Lee inadvertently asked himself every morning before his eyes opened; he questioned which role he would take – assassin, protector, leader, follower.

_Who will I be today?_

As he donned the green jumpsuit he was known for, he wondered what company he was expected to offer – Neji's rival, Gai's apprentice, Sakura's courtier, Naruto's friend.

_Why do I care so much?_

Even as his blindingly excited smile lighted on his face, he didn't understand. Even as he tried to convince himself of his happiness, he wondered why he bothered, why he couldn't be Rock Lee – _just _Rock Lee – around everyone that he loved.

But he opened his door and that quiet red-haired boy was standing in wait of his hand, to lead him where he needed to go, to the people he was supposed to see. He was aware of all of the different expectations Lee set for himself – but it didn't matter.

Gaara of the Desert was present for Lee's mood swings, self-doubt, passions. He was the only one to see them all, and he never went away.

And – somehow – now that he thought about it, walking down the street with his fingers laced with this silent person – that made Lee feel real.


	18. Live

Note from the Author: o.O ShinoHina request for **_MissMelody21. _**Enjoy.

**Porny: **Another uber-fast review. :applauds: Yes – this one did indeed turn out as I wanted it to. I'm quite proud of it. I seriously don't even know where this stuff comes from anymore though. -.- And yes, August is almost over – that actually scares the shit out of me. I'm a fucking _junior! _

**Lunarxshinobi: **Thank you, dahling.

**Naash: **-.- I write tons of yaoi – where have you been? Thank you for all the lovely compliments. And … that is the weirdest pairing I've heard of yet – but I'll try anything once. I could use a prompt though (an object, idea, thought, phrase, etc) because I'm not too big a fan of either character – so I'd have trouble thinking up something without an idea to go on.

**LazyKitty: **_New reviewer! _:happiness:

_**Live**_

"That's never happened before." Hinata's voice was soft – comforting and questioning.

Shino winced as her chakra-laced hands ghosted over the wound in his shoulder. "The insects panicked."

"But that's unusual, isn't it?" Her quiet tone held a note of demand, but she was attempting to hide her anxiety. "They usually defend you, don't they?"

He knew her well enough to recognize the concealment of her emotions. "I'm alright, Hinata."

"The bleeding's stopped."

"They were protecting you."

Her small fingers tightened on the bandages. "You should be able to start training again in a few days."

"It wasn't your fault."

Her busy hands faltered, shaking. "They shouldn't have protected me." She whispered haltingly, strained, finally acknowledging his words. "I was careless."

He sighed at the voice of her guilt complex. "The Sound nin masked his chakra perfectly. You couldn't be expected –"

"I should have seen him!" she cried suddenly, and he realized she wasn't _reproaching _herself – but _hating _herself. "It would have been better if they defended you – it doesn't matter as much what happens to me." Her shoulders sagged as a ragged breath shuddered through her. "You're a good ninja; you're going to help this village."

"It isn't a serious wound." Even as he reiterated that, pain sliced through his left side.

"Why did they protect me?" She was back to ignoring him, her form quaking with rage at herself. _Why didn't they let me die?_

"They have orders to always watch over you."

"Why?"

"I care for you."

The reply was blunt – it was the only way Shino ever spoke, when he did speak – and she flinched at the word _care _– as if it was foreign to her – unknown – strange.

The clearing they occupied fell silent – their only company that of deceased enemy shinobi. Her demeanor screamed of a bashful awkwardness; his of knowing patience.

Timidly, she fell against him, letting her wet face sink into his coat, shuddering into relieved relaxation against him. His eyebrows lifted – his only real expression of surprise – but he shifted gingerly, wrapping an arm around her waist as she curled meekly into his lap, like an abused kitten.

"I'm sorry you're wounded." She offered into the vacuum brought about by lack of conversation, tucking her head under his chin.

He smiled slightly behind his high collar, because she hadn't blamed herself. "I'll live."

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Additional A/N:pulls out a shovel that has "OOC" carved into the handle and slams it across the back of Hinata's head:


	19. Care

Note from the Author: Angst warning. And did anyone notice that almost all of my stories feature Neji in some way? -.- This was a request from **_Naash. _**… I thought I was going to have trouble with this pairing, but it ended up just _going ._

And just so we're clear, I will write any pairing _except _NaruHin, NejiTen, SasuSaku, and ShikaIno. -.-

**Naash: **What's really strange is that I wrote the fic before I got your prompt for it. o.O Although this turned out a bit angsty, because I was feeling angsty. And don't worry about the yaoi thing – I just felt like giving you a hard time because I like you.

**MissMelody21: **Not a problem – I actually enjoyed writing it.

**Porny: **It was _indeed _my longest yet – _but _this one is even longer! -.- You're only a freshy? Awww! Cute! I normally don't like freshmen, but I like you. :hugs:

_**Care**_

"You're not like the others."

His statement was accentuated by the _thwop _of her senbon embedding itself into the center of the target. "Really."

"You don't squeal when you see me."

TenTen tossed the needles with undeniable accuracy from her straight-backed position on the grass. "You're good-looking, but most of those girls like you because you're strong." She moved forward at an easy stride to retrieve her weapons.

"And why don't you like me?" Sasuke was perched in the low branches of a nearby tree behind her targets.

She pulled the senbon from them one at a time, absently tapping them together as she walked down the line. "I'm not weak."

"Hn. I heard you lost to Temari in the preliminaries."

Her shoulder blades tensed slightly and she tugged a needle from the canvas with more force than necessary. "And you passed out in the Second Exam – we all have our down days."

Onyx eyes lifted to the sky, brow creased with a frown.

"Why are you here?"

It was rare that anyone questioned his actions. "I wanted to spar."

She scoffed. "With me."

"With someone who could challenge me."

"You can't beat me with the Sharingan, you know." She tucked away her senbon, choosing a new weapon – shuriken – at random.

"Why do you say that?"

One. Two. Three – dead center. "You can't beat Lee with the Sharingan – and I _can_. If you can't beat him, you can't beat me."

He stiffened indignantly. "He only one because he doesn't use ninjitsu."

"Says something about your limits, doesn't it?" She closed her eyes, sending a shuriken into the bull's-eye without watching it. "Besides, I also train with Neji – and he's got Byakugan. It's said to be stronger than the Sharingan."

Sasuke scowled.

Her brown eyes rolled. "I'm used to pouting bloodline boys – so don't try that on me." She pushed the targets up against the trees. "Well, come on then."

He jumped down, immediately reacting to duck, as a kunai whizzed by his head. "That was a cheap shot."

"The enemy often won't give you time to take a stance." Her bored tone reflected that of a teacher repeating a lesson for the hundredth time.

He growled low in his throat.

"So how does the last remaining member of the Uchiha clan fight?" she goaded. "You know – _without _the help of a seal." She leapt out of the path of a fire that singed the trees behind her.

He smirked at the slight surprise that twitched across her face, throwing himself at her in a direct physical attack. She had predicted his first move, dodging the kick aimed at her chest to catch a fist launched at her mouth. He was quick, talented – but she was older and more experienced.

In a moment, he was injured and she was straddling his stomach. "You're lucky I didn't poison my senbon today," she murmured, licking her thumb and wiping the blood away from his ivory cheek. "You'd be dead already."

He didn't say anything, watching her face. "Why did you do that?"

She was inspecting the wound, deciding if it needed treatment. "What?"

"You're acting like my mother." He pushed her back by her shoulder, sitting up.

She frowned but snidely offered, "What? Wishful thinking?"

His brow furrowed and he gloomily climbed to his feet, turning to leave.

"I'm sorry."

He looked over his shoulder, halting. "What?"

"That was unkind." Her head bowed.

He shifted to face her. "You didn't answer my question."

She shook her head, pulling herself up to replace her targets. "When I ended up on a team with Lee and Neji, I kind of felt like it was my responsibility to take care of them." Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Lee is so enthusiastic about everything that he'll keep moving even if he's bleeding to death – he doesn't leave anything unfinished. And Neji." She paused, sighing. "I think sometimes Neji _wants _to die." Her head tilted, eyes resting curiously on his face. "I get that vibe from you sometimes."

"My life doesn't really matter." He said softly before he thought to stop himself. "And I don't think anyone will really care that I'm gone."

His hair fluttered as a shuriken thunked into the tree trunk beside his head. "That's stupid." She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "There are so many people who care about you. Naruto would do anything for you; Sakura, too. And Iruka-sensei and Kakashi-sensei. It's so stupid to say no one will care. How would you know?" Her back was to him, shoulders shaking. "How would _either _of you know?"

_She's not talking about me anymore. _"You really care about him."

She was glaring at a hole-ridden target like everything was its fault, her fists clenched. "I hate it when people I care about don't care about themselves." She whispered fiercely, voice quaking as her teeth gritted, and she spun on him angrily, intent on raving at him. But for some reason, upon seeing his face, her posture sagged, and she sank quietly to the ground. "Being a girl is rough." She grumbled. "We spend too much time feeling."

His heart went out to her – maybe the first time it had ever gone out to anyone – and he moved slowly to her side, kneeling, an arm around her in a gesture of comfort he wasn't used to giving. "I'd say it gets better."

Her head ell on his shoulder, her lips pressed against her neck as she finished what he didn't want to say: "But it doesn't." Her breath was soft and warm. "I watch them suffer, and I can't do anything to make it better for either of them." She laughed ironically, clutching his shirt to keep him close, as if this was the first time that she'd ever told anyone this. "Do you really care at all?"

He smiled slightly, tracing the lines of her palm with the cool tip of a senbon that he still had in his hand. "I could probably get used to caring."

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Note from the Author: … hm. :studies the rather bloody OOC shovel wound on Sasuke's head and moves on to TenTen:


	20. Details

Note from the Author: A GaaTen request for "FalconFire." Enjoy.

**Twighlight16: **o.O I think you just made me the happiest girl to ever live. :hugs you: I was thinking, "WTF? I don't know anything about TenTen's personality! How am I going to write this:flails:" And then you said that and I felt better.

**Porny: **Haha. Unconventional pairings. Aw – I'm glad you're not immature. I don't know when I start writing one-shots. But I like storylines. :warm fuzzies:

**FalconFire: **_First_. Oh, yeah – I did this request all fast-like because you're a new reviewer. _Second. _I'm aware it's "Tenten" but _somewhere _I saw it written "TenTen" and I decided I liked that way better. :shrug:

**Naash: **Aw, shucks! I'm glad you liked it.

**Scorpion05: **Thanks, babe!

**V-chan2k6: **Number one: You used the word "hardcore" and that was awesome, because it's a word I use to describe everything – but that somehow never finds its way into my stories. Two: I'm glad you enjoyed this, because it made me a little ill to write it. Haha. I am not a fan of either Sasuke or Tenten (I want to shoot Tenten sometimes), but it was a request so I got through it. Anyway, thank you for your lovely comments. :new reviewer cookies:

_**Detail**_

Her lashes curled slightly, brushing at the corner of her eye.

It was one of the things he'd noticed about her on the nights when she was deep in slumber but sleep wouldn't come to him – which were most nights.

For every night she spent in his bed, there was something new to notice about her – the spattering of freckles across her shoulders, the pocked scars along her stomach (wounds from training against the Jyuuken, he assumed), the dark of a birthmark at her hairline behind her left ear. He spent the long nights learning the secrets of her body – secrets only he would ever know – and taking pride in knowing them.

He found himself often hoping that night would come sooner than later – a wish he had never had before – so that he could lie with her, watch her sleep, and discover her all over again. He'd memorized her touch, her smell, her taste – but memories have never been as good as the real thing.

But of the nights he spent with her in his arms, he liked the mornings best, because she was the only one who ever smiled when she saw him.

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Additional A/N: … Crack pairings are awesome. -.- And I'm back to my drabble roots:throws a party:


	21. Heal

Note from the Author: This is so cheesy, I hope no one reads it.

**Random Projects: **Aw, you're welcome, dahling. :huggles:

**Naash: **Thanks, bébé. (Random reversion to French – I know.)

**FalconFire: **It was my pleasure – I enjoyed writing this. And_yes_! Another instant friend:huggles:

**Porny: **Yes – I just can't seem to get away from drabbles. -.- Oh, well – it happens, I guess. I think I love Gaara more than Lee – or the same amount at least … and when they're together, it's just too great for words. :dances with you:

**DragonStorm85: **You know something? I _hate_ TenTen. And you know, you'd think I wouldn't, because she's kind of the feminist character of Naruto, and I'm a hardcore feminist – but I can't stand her. I think it might just be because I'm a NejiHina fangirl and NejiTen really pisses me off, so I take it out on her. -.-

_**Heal**_

When Hinata coughed, blood still came away on her fingertips. No one knew that she had never fully healed after Neji had tried to kill her.

But sometimes it was hard to hide. She was very tired of wiping away the crimson from her mouth – and no one had noticed yet, so she was very good at doing it conspicuously.

She didn't blame Neji. It wasn't in her to blame anything on anyone – except herself – and she felt he was justified in his actions and his anger. Besides that, they had long since forgiven each other for whatever had happened when they were children; they had become something close to friends – or maybe _family _was a better description (they were the only family they really had). They depended on each other for support, because no one would ever understand them like they understood each other.

So of course, he was the first to notice.

They were walking the perimeter of the Hyuuga compound – a pastime they had taken up years ago. They rarely spoke on their daily strolls, just enjoying the quiet company. The silence was only broken by Hinata' soft coughing.

Now, despite her discretion, Neji had been worried about her health for a while. she coughed frequently, and her breath often came short. But now, as she wiped at her mouth, he first noticed something else. "Hinata-sama, you're bleeding."

She gave a start, fisting her handkerchief to hide it. "What?"

His hand came to her face, his thumb wiping gently at the corner of her lips. He held it up so that she could see the drop of red liquid. "Why are you bleeding?"

Her gaze averted, and she dabbed absently at her mouth.

His eyes widened at the sight of her white handkerchief, splotched with crimson. "Hinata-sama, how long have you been ill?"

She offered a weak smile. "Since our first Chuunin exam."

He flinched visibly at the implication, his head bowing. "I'm sorry, Hinata-sama."

She wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder so she could see his face. "Please don't blame yourself, Neji-nii-san. If I had been stronger, it wouldn't have happened."

He embraced her gingerly, as if she might break if he held her too close. "I was supposed to take care of you."

"_You must always protect her."_

"_Yes, Father!"_

Her eyes pressed against his neck, her breath warm on his skin. "You take care of me." She whispered, holding tightly to his jacket as if she was afraid he'd leave. "Neji-nii-san, please believe me when I say I don't blame you."

He didn't answer, but shifted to pull away.

She sighed, distraught that she couldn't get through to him. "Neji-nii-san, please -"

But his bandaged hand wrapped around hers. "I'm taking you to the hospital." He stated.

0

"Why didn't you come to me immediately?" Tsunade's voice was stern, her chakra-laced hands sliding across the young girl's chest.

"I didn't want you to think I was weak." She said meekly, feeling very vulnerable as she lay on her back.

Neji snorted, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. "It doesn't show weakness to ask for help."

Her soft response was "Look who's talking."

He didn't answer, settling back into a moody silence.

"I'm a little surprised you were the one to bring her." Tsunade commented, smiling when Hinata coughed lightly and no blood came with it.

The pouting Neji murmured incoherently.

"What was that?"

"You're supposed to take care of the people you love." He repeated quietly.

Hinata stared at him, surprised, and smiled, thanking Tsunade and hurrying to his side. "Let's go home, Neji-nii-san." She said, shyly slipping her hand into his and letting him lead her from the room.

The Hokage shook her head, chuckling. "Who would have thought?"

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They walked in silence, nodding in acknowledgment at any friends that greeted them, ignoring the confused looks that were tossed at their hands knotted between them.

"Neji-nii-san?" Her feet dragged to a halt.

He turned to her, eyes questioning.

She smiled brightly, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. "I love you too, you know."

His arms came around her waist, his lips brushing across hers. Against her mouth, he whispered, "Good to know."

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Additional A/N: o.O _Don't look at me! _


	22. Uncovering

Note from the Author: … _This was supposed to be a drabble!_

_**Uncovering**_

Hinata loved Neji's hands. They were strong and warm, with calloused fingertips and pale scars – so much like him, the Neji he didn't show often – _her _Neji-nii-san – faulted, but perfect in her eyes.

So – naturally – she hated his bandages. The first time she had spent the night in his bed, she had awoken with his lovely naked fingers splayed on her stomach, those accursed bandages discarded on the floor. She had glared at them, wishing her gaze could make them combust, for hiding his beautiful skin.

In the mornings, she would sit cross-legged on his bed and watch him put them on. He wrapped his right leg first, thigh to ankle – as his flesh disappeared, so did his smile, and he became gradually less talkative. Then he did his torso – starting under his left arm – and right arm. By the time he was finished, he was the sober, serious boy she had known and feared all her life.

Her favorite pastime, of course, was taking them off, which he let her do each evening when he came home. She started at the fingertips, folding the bandages delicately – though she wanted to burn them – as they unwrapped, enjoying the exposure of him as they came away – and he slowly became her Neji again.

She quietly asked him once why he wore them.

He didn't answer, instead inclining his head and leaving.

She hated that he didn't kiss her goodbye.

She asked him again that night, as she cuddle close in his arms, finding his bare chest much nicer to have her head against.

"They're protection." He murmured, stroking her hair.

"From emotion?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He hesitated before saying, "It's easier to kill when you don't feel."

"I think I'd rather feel." She said softly, fingers absently twining in the dark strands that fell across his collarbone.

"Let me give you an example." He shifted, pulling himself up to lean against the headboard. "There's a very pretty kunoichi assassin, and I have to kill her before she kills me. If I didn't shut out most of my emotion, what would I be thinking?"

"I don't know." She replied quietly, feeling a little like she was listening to her mother teach her about morals.

"I'd be thinking that this pretty kunoichi probably has someone waiting for her to come home – just like I have a pretty kunoichi of my own. I'd think about how I would feel if you were taken away from me – and then I wouldn't be able to kill her. Next thing you know, I'm dead."

Hinata didn't speak, choosing instead to press herself against him, hiding her face in his hair. "I'm sorry for being selfish." She whispered. "I didn't think about it that way."

The next morning, she picked up his folded bandages from the table beside the bed. "Neji-nii-san, can I put them on for you?"

He smiled and nodded, sitting on the end of the bed and directing her, though she had watched him do it so many times, she knew how. As she did it, she silently thanked them for keeping her Neji alive, even though she hated what they made him.

Of course, when he pulled her close, kissing her gently and whispering "I love you," she felt like she could learn to like them.

0

Note from the Author: … :starts digging Neji's grave with the OOC shovel:


	23. Notice

Note from the Author: On a one-shot/drabble roll, bitches. I have to do _something _during Celebrating the Sacraments class, after all. -.-

**Ihrtinu: **Yay:hugs: I love new reviewers. :warm fuzzies:

_**Notice**_

Kiba remembered the exact moment he first recognized Shino as a person.

He had always thought he was some kind of walking statue – he never smiled, rarely even _spoke. _And of course, Kiba had the good luck of sitting next to him most of the time.

It wasn't until they were eleven or twelve that he first noticed the incredibly _human _nervous little habit he had. During written exams, or even while listening to a lecture or directions, Shino would twist and untwist the end of his pen, taking it apart and putting it back together.

Kiba watched him do it for months before finally asking him why he did it.

It was the first time he'd even attempted conversation with him, and Shino had stared at him and then at the pen, and then he had laid it down on the desk, and something near a blush had come over his face.

That's when Kiba decided he liked him, and that he wanted to be friends with him.

So he was ecstatic that they were put on the same team when they graduated. At first, he tried his best to goad him into talking, because the stoic boy had a certain proud silence about him, and when he _did _speak, it was often condescendingly. After a while, he realized that didn't work, and just talked.

While Hinata was in the hospital after the Chuunin exams, they would train together, and Kiba would just talk. He'd say whatever came to his mind, just to keep the silence from coming back – asking questions and eventually answering them himself, because Shino wouldn't.

A few days after their mission to find the Bikouchuu, Hinata had been training with her father, and he had been sitting in the grass with Shino after training and had asked him, just for curiosity's sake, why he thought she liked Naruto so much.

It was one of the few questions he had seriously wanted an answer to, because love was a concept that he didn't really understand because he'd never really felt it. He knew that how he felt about his family was that pack bond that didn't quite mean the same thing. So he sat quietly in the grass beside his friend, not really expecting an answer, but deciding it best not to answer himself.

"I think she sees what she wants to be in Naruto."

Kiba had blinked at him for a moment, unsure of whether or not to answer, because he didn't want to ruin the fact that he had actually spoken to him. "What do you mean?"

"Well," his words were halting, as if he really wasn't sure of how to hold a conversation, "she wants to be strong, and she doesn't want to give up at anything – and Naruto is like that. You know firsthand."

He snorted at the reference to the Chuunin exam fiasco. "I was sure I was going to beat him." He mumbled moodily.

"You would have if you hadn't gotten so cocky."

He scowled – _this _was the Shino he knew – and decided to change the subject. "So do you have anyone you feel like that for?"

He was met with silence.

_Not particularly surprising. _He sighed, resting his chin on his knees. _He probably talked as much as he did for a year._

"I want to be like you."

His head snapped up, sure he had heard wrong. "What?"

There was a faint flush across Shino's cheeks. "I admire you. You always say what you're feeling, and do what you want to."

He stared at him for a second, then grinned. "Do you like me, Shino?"

No answer.

His fingers slid into the other boy's, his head falling against his leg like an affectionate dog. "'Cause I like you."

Shino's muscles tensed beneath the contact, as if it was unusual for him to touch anyone if he wasn't trying to kill them. Eventually, he relaxed again, venturing as far as to wrap an arm around the boy beside him.

They were silent a long time, taking in the pleasant awkward beauty of the situation.

Kiba finally broke through it: "Hey, Shino?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for noticing me."

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Additional A/N: Eek:flail: You have no idea how much fun I had writing this. It's so fluffy:hugs my ShinoKiba:


	24. Move

Note from the Author: This is for _**Furuido** _because we were randomly discussing this pairing the other day. o.O And then I had to write it … even though, you know, it freaks me out beyond all reason.

**Book-manga-freak: **I think they actually do make Shino and Kiba plushies. :puzzled:

**Porny: **Yeah – I always wondered about the bandages too. _Sooooo _I had a hit-myself-in-the-head-and-say, "Duh, I write fan fiction!" moment.

You know, I've heard the term "Canon" used to describe pairings before, and I really don't know what it means. -.- :feels like a bad fan:

:gives you an OOC shovel: Now we're twinkies!

**Ihrtinu: **… You're a Kiba fangirl? o.O Would that happen to explain your pen name? OMG. I _get it! _I'm a Kiba fangirl too. -.-

**Invader-Nehima: **Not everyone agrees with my pairings, but I'm flattered that you read them anyway. I'm a grammar freak as well – if it's not written to _my _English specifications, I refuse to read it. (Pet peeve: people saying "Anyways" which isn't a _word_!)

… I want a ShinoKiba plushie … :plots making one:

:hugs:

**DragonStorm85: **Right on, babe, right on.

**Naash: **I honestly don't understand you at all. You don't read yaoi, you don't read NejiHina (my number one pairing!), but you read my one-shots. -.- But thank you for that:hugs:

**Ravensbff: **… I don't know of any like that … but now I want to write one. o.O I'll dedicate it to you!

_**Move**_

Rock Lee had never been able to sit still. He didn't like to waste time – life was too short, there were too many things to be done, too many things to improve upon.

And of course, one person he had to prove something to.

Hyuuga Neji – well, he was a genius, wasn't he? He had been talented from the moment he took his first Jyuuken stance.

Unlike him, Lee had had to work for his strength, had to work _hard_, and he had always believed that one day, he could beat Neji, because he believed in himself.

But what was very strange was that, after more than a year being on the same team with him, Lee wasn't so interested in being better than him – but being _with _him.

Somewhere along the way, Lee had come to love him and – oh! – how he wished it was platonic! He often envisioned the day he would confess his feelings – and those daydreams usually involved gallons of Lee's blood spewing from his body, because Neji was completely disgusted.

So he just kept it to himself, wishing Neji would offer _some _clue as to how he felt about him – and it would never come.

That is until one very odd day.

They had been training and were now breaking for lunch, sitting with their backs toward each other, silent, because neither really ever knew what to say to the other outside of words of encouragement or comments for improvement. So they stayed quiet, choosing to ignore each other as opposed to insulting each other.

Of course, Lee had trouble staying in one place, so his leg bounced, and he rocked from side-to-side or back-and-forth, like he was dancing to some tune no one else could hear.

His tapping fingers were abruptly subdued by Neji's hand. "Sit still, Lee." He said softly, and his back pressed against the other boy's, as if he was bracing him.

Somehow, with his fingers laced with Neji's, leaning lightly against him, being calm didn't seem nearly as hard.

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Additional A/N: o.O My first (and probably last) try at this pairing.


	25. Embrace

Note from the Author: Random thing for _Invader-Nehima _that didn't come out at all like I wanted. -.- It started as a drabble-thing that was going to be a "Sasuke likes hugs, Naruto likes hugs – they like to hug each other" thing, but of course, Elizabeth has overanalyzed the plot of everything she has ever written and went slightly crazy on this one too.

And I've always wanted to rewrite a scene from the show so that it goes the way _I _thought it should have, so I did.

So Invader-Nehima: I apologize. Deeply. And eternally. :bows:

**Random Projects: **o.O People keep telling me stuff like that, and I never know how to respond. :blushes:

**Naash: **-.- How I despise NejiTen.

**Invader-Nehima: **I don't think it's really a crack pairing – but it still weirds me out hardcore. -.- I don't, as a rule, write SasuNaru – most of my stuff is NaruSasu … _but _I made an exception and did that just for you.

**Furuido: **… That has to have been the greatest review I've ever gotten.

**Book-manga-freak: **It's a pairing I'm officially never writing again. Haha.

**Porny: **-.- I hate NaruHina and SasuSaku so very, very much. :considers suicide:

Yeah, I know FF dot net has been acting like such a loser lately:shakes fist:

**Koiree: **… I don't like the pairing either. -.- I just had to write it. And no, "anyways" is _not _a word.

**Ihrtinu: **… _I want an Akamaru hat! _

**Ravensbff: **It's pretty random coming from me since I never write it, but it's actually a pretty big pairing and in a way, one that works. I only wrote it because my sister (Furuido) and I were discussing random pairings we've come across and I made a comment about NejiLee, she made a comment about it working and then … I had to write it. -.-

**Puffi the Insane: **o.O _Thank you! _:huggles:

**Silent Sage: **I actually just read this one-shot again a moment ago, wondering why everyone freaked out about it … and I realized I quite like it. And I'm glad you do. Thank you very much; I really do appreciate the compliments. And if I ever decide to write another NejiLee, it will definitely be dedicated to you.

_**Embrace**_

One of the things few people knew about Uchiha Sasuke was that he loved hugs.

When his parents were alive, he wasn't able to leave his house, come home, wake up, go to sleep, or walk into or out of a room without his mother embracing him.

Naturally, after his clan was destroyed, he was averse to contact, avoided it because it was painful. When a person held him, the only thought running through his head was _This is not my mother_ and he rebelled against the arms, shunning humanity because it thought it could replace his family.

Besides that, the only people who tried to touch him were girls that wanted him. Tackling someone when he's off guard does _not _qualify as a hug. So he began to detest any kind of physical affection.

But he really did long for it, though he rarely admitted it even to himself. He was jealously hateful toward people to whom love came naturally and openly. He wanted that, but was too proud to condemn himself to it.

That was Sasuke. That was his life.

And then there was Uzumaki Naruto.

Naruto had never had family or friends to express love for. He was lonely, watching others with important people, wishing he had people he could hug as "Goodbye" or "Thank you" or "I love you." He wanted someone to care about.

The first person he ever hugged was Umino Iruka, who was much more like his father than his teacher. Iruka had embraced him without hesitation when he'd thrown himself, laughing joyfully, into his arms, so proud to be wearing his own forehead protector, the symbol that declared him shinobi.

That hug kept him from giving up.

That was Naruto and his life.

Now, when Sasuke and Naruto ended up on the same team, they were less than pleased. Sasuke didn't know why Naruto was so desperate for approval. Naruto couldn't understand how Sasuke had no friends when _everyone _wanted to be around him. They were immediately at odds, finding something wrong with the other at every given moment.

But while they were rivals, they were friends – forever watching each other's backs, praising one another even as they mocked. Each understood the life of the other because, while they were so _different_, there was no one more like either of them than the other.

Naruto loved Sasuke from the moment he accepted him as his teammate, fighting _with _him against Zabuza and proving that they were a perfect force – connected without or words or thoughts – just being. He was sure of him as a clear, defined figure in a world blurred by mist.

When they battled Haku, Naruto had no doubt that they could defeat him, because they were friends, and they were the perfect team and (of course) he was an optimist.

He never expected Sasuke to die. And at that, he'd never expected him to die _for him._

And Sasuke was just as surprised that saving Naruto would ever be his motive for giving up his life. As he fell, the wind rushed through his ears as if whispered voices were laughing at him, and Naruto's voice cut through the maddening sound, wailing his name. He closed his eyes, expecting his head to meet a nice concrete pillow, but was captured in the cushion of Naruto's arms.

He found himself leaning into the embrace, vaguely recognizing the boyish smell that was completely Naruto, taking comfort in him in his last moments. His consciousness drifted to him and away, like the tide of a fickle sea. One moment, Naruto was holding him close, and he woke to hot tears and soft breath against his neck; then his cheek lay against the cool comfort of the pavement, and a voice that sounded like Naruto's was screaming, and Sasuke panicked internally, thinking he was in danger and then registering the rage, his body relaxing with relief back into slumber, thanking him for avenging him. The third time he woke, he felt _alive _again, not so much on the brink of eternity, and he remembered why he hated hugs as Sakura realized he was awake and tackled him, weeping happily.

She helped him to his feet and he broke away from her, vision still fuzzy, looking for his other teammate. He found the shock of blonde hair and stumbled toward it, wanting to call to him, to tell him he was alright.

Naruto turned at the sound of Sakura's joyful voice – his heart might have burst, a smile lighting on his lips.

Sasuke just stared at him for a moment, unsure of the tears on his cheeks, whether he was the cause – and if he was, was he happy about that?

But it didn't matter, nothing had ever mattered so much as what he needed to do right then. He ran to him – his legs like lead, his brain working in slow motion – and then he was clasping his arms around him, burying his face in the hair at his temple, and he forgot about the ache of his body, warming to the feel of being in Naruto's embrace as he whispered his name.

And that was the beginning. That was the start of Sasuke's demise.

Or – was it really a demise? He felt like he was becoming his mother.

Because now, Naruto couldn't leave his house, come home, wake up, go to sleep, or walk into or out of a room without Sasuke embracing him. Naruto certainly didn't mind, and Sasuke was getting so used to loving affection again that he didn't know what he'd do if he ever lost it.

Of course, Naruto promised – and showed – him everyday that he never would.


	26. Unspoken

Note from the Author: When Elizabeth watches an episode (episode 114) more than once, Elizabeth starts thinking about fan fiction. -.- And things like this happen.

And this really doesn't have to be a pairing if you don't want to look at it that way … it could just be, like, a friendship … thing.

**Ihrtinu: **Thank you, dahling.

**Ravensbff: **I almost typed your pen name "RavensSpell" because that used to be my screen name. -.- And thank you.

**Dr. Hairspray: **Digging the new pen name. Haha.

I missed you too – seriously, I was thinking about the OOC shovel the other day and I was like, "_Why don't I have time for fan fiction?_" and then I cried. Even though I didn't.

And I shall go read it and review immediately, love. :hugs:

**Invader-Nehima: **I'm glad you liked it! I was worried. But now I can stop chewing my fingernails and say "Thank you!"

**PIE IS FILLED WITH AWESOMENESS: **Thank you!

**Random Projects: **Yay:waves anti-SasuSaku and NejiTen flag:

_**Unspoken**_

For the first time in their lives, the silence between them was awkward.

Shikamaru, slumped in his chair, stared out the window, desperately wishing one of them would say something, but far too lazy to be bothered to do it himself.

Chouji's eyes were on his best friend's face, his fingers twisting in the sheets of the hospital bed, wanting to speak but not knowing how to word it – he never _had _been the genius, after all.

So the silence remained, broken sometimes by the shift of cramped bodies making themselves more comfortable or deep sighs that had one of them hoping the other was about to speak, just to be disappointed as the quiet persisted.

And really – what were they expected to say? Anything running through their minds would come out an unintended confession, and even geniuses aren't ready to lay bare their souls. Chouji wanted to say, _I was going to die for you,_ and Shikamaru wanted to tell him, _I'm glad you're alive._

But those things shouldn't be said aloud and, at these times, they're the only words that should be spoken. So they fidgeted uncomfortably, listening to the clock tick away everything they should say, and every chance they'll have to say it.

Finally, Shikamaru stood to leave and Chouji blurted his name. The silence was heavy with the remnants of his voice as they stared at each other, and the sound of laughter flitted on the wind through the window.

Shikamaru scratched at the back of his head. "Tch. This is troublesome."

Chouji's face lit up with understanding.

Shikamaru laid out across the end of his bed, watching the sky through the open window, his arms folded beneath his head. Chouji's gaze followed the same course, as he listened to the children shrieking with happiness in the streets outside. He murmured, "Thank you" just as Shikamaru whispered, "I'm sorry."

Their surprised eyes met, and Shikamaru muttered, "For what? I almost got you killed."

Chouji smiled, genuine and kind. "But you saved me first."


	27. Soleil

**Note from the Author: **Randomly came out of the Sims. -.- Yes, I said it – the Sims inspired this. It can be AU if you want it to be.

For those who don't know: "Hinata" translates as "in the sun."

**Invader-Nehima: **:dark glare: SasuSaku needs to fall off the face of the earth.

… On that note! Thank you.

**Conafrex: **OMG, I know:drools over hot Chouji-ness:

**Ravensbff: **… NaruSasu is _so _not platonic. The fact that they fight all the time is just covering up for the fact that they want to molest each other.

**Dr. Hairspray: **… I love you.

**Lighty-chan: **Thank you so much. I didn't realize that anyone would spend that much time on anything of mine. I really appreciate it.

**Ihrtinu:** I am _so _glad I'm not the only one who cried! My sister laughed at me. -.-

**Furuido: **… Kind of.

**Puffi the Insane: **Sorry!

**Doranobaka: **New reviewer:rains cookies:

**V-chan2k6: **Oh, my – those fangirl sparklies can be pretty intense – better watch out. O.o And yes, "hardcore" equals "the greatest word ever."

**Moonshine and Mustard Seed: **Doesn't it just _scream _Kiba?

_**Soleil – Sun –**_

"I like the puppies, Kiba-kun." Hinata giggled as one of the mentioned creatures laid a wet kiss on her cheek. "They're adorable."

He smiled at her as she fell backwards at the bottom of what can only be honestly called a _dog pile. _"And they adore you – just like I do."

She blushed, trying to turn her attention to the puppies who were all vying for it, and trying to ignore his statement. He'd been saying things like that for months. "How old are they?"

"About six weeks." He said softly, feeling a little defeated. "Do you want one?"

She giggled again, although some of her mirth had dispersed. "I couldn't. Father would never allow it. I'm hopeless enough as I am. I don't need a puppy distracting me." She cooed the last sentence into the face of a black pup, who was grinning madly, and to whom she had taken a particular liking.

A frown marred his face, as if he was hurt by her rejection. "So how about you name her – you seem to like her a lot."

Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and the brown eyes of the dog she held clashed with her own white ones. "I'll name you 'Soleil.'" She said quietly, smiling gently when the tail wagged as if in agreement. "'Dans le soleil' – 'Soleil' for short." She hugged her close.

"What does that mean?"

"'In the sun' – because isn't it just lovely to be that way?" Her adoring eyes turned to her best friend's face, and she dumped the puppy into his lap. "Now you have your one little piece of sunshine."

Soleil scurried away from him just as he grabbed Hinata's wrist, pulling her toward him. Gently, their lips met, and she let out a surprised squeak, tensing, before her fingers found his cheeks and she snuggled against him.

He grinned, breaking their kiss. "Would it be cheesy to say _you're _my sunshine?"

0

Additional A/N: You're my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me hap_py_ when skies are grey.


	28. Burn

Note from the Author: Since my slash pairings freaked _Oakspirit _out, I decided to write her a ShikaTema.

**Oakspirit: **I'm sorry some of my pairings freak you out. This one's just for you.

**Dr. Hairspray: **So I definitely spent way too much time away from FF dot net, because I have now found three of my reviewers (you're the third) that I've missed like crazy! And no, I didn't mind the review replies at all:huggles:

**Ravensbff: **It's not a pairing I usually write but I find it just unendingly adorable.

"Damn it!" Temari hopped away from the stove, glaring angrily at the saucepan that sat on a burner … burning.

Shikamaru cracked an eye from where he was lounging at the kitchen table. "You might want to put that fire out before you burn down the kitchen … again."

She turned her scathing look on him. "Don't even start, Nara. You never stay interested long enough to finish an argument – so don't begin one." Her voice came out a growl as she poured the remains of the water bottle she had been drinking from over the small flame. "And I _didn't _burn down the damn kitchen, okay? It was only _one _counter and half the salary for _one _mission covered the cost to repair it."

"Who told you to cook anyway? You're really not that good at it."

Her brow furrowed, a frown fixed to her lips as she studied the damage to – hey, what was she making anyway? She couldn't even tell now; it was just a charred piece of something. "Well, excuse me for not wanting to let you starve." She grumbled under her breath, slamming the ruined saucepan into the garbage. "Hell knows you're too lazy to cook your own food."

He sat up straight, sighing like it was too much of a bother to do anything. "Hey, I would have eaten that."

If looks could kill. "You just told me I couldn't cook – why the hell would you have eaten it?"

He shrugged, standing to stretch, and strolled easily toward her, nuzzling her neck gently as he wrapped his arms around her. "It's not so bad to make an effort if it's for you."

She smiled at him, letting their lips fall softly together for a moment before pushing him away. "Well, I'm not making you anything else, so you can either eat out of the garbage can or cook for yourself for once."

He sighed again, in that way that said it didn't matter so much, and took her hand. "Let's just go out."


	29. Awake

Note from the Author: For _Unmotivated Genius_, because I love my reviewers!

And for everyone who watches the anime and doesn't read the manga: _Oh, my God! _Episode 216 – Can we say "ShikaTema goodness in the near future!"?

**Unmotivated Genius: **Just for you – another ShikaTema here. There are four pairings that I absolutely refuse to write – ShikaIno is one of them. Thank you for the lovely review.

**Naash: **Ah, yes – _so _cheesy. I just could not bring myself not to write that cheese.

**Dr. Hairspray: **I love flowers:coo:

**Invader-Nehima: **I love being back on FF dot net and seeing all these people reviewing that I loved to get reviews from. It makes me feel great. Thanks, hun.

**Neverfall: **I'm currently writing a LeeSaku AU and … I'm being so mean to Sakura. And it's completely unintentional – it's like it's in my blood to be mean to her. -.- Thanks for the review!

**Shikamaru's Hot Honey: **It's up there on my favorite pairings list – number three, actually – behind NejiHina and NaruSasu. :giggles: Thank you for the review.

**Woodrokiro: **Thank you very much, dearie. And yes – I am a slightly obsessive Sims fan. Also, the Sims inspired my last ShikaTema drabble because Temari set the stove on fire in my Sims game. -.-

**Ravensbff: **Yes, he doesn't seem the type to care about much, does he?

**Puffi the Insane: **Okay, wow. You're a spaz.

**Awake**

This was Shikamaru's favorite kind of morning.

He awoke early, to a cool room that spoke nicely to his face but didn't affect the rest of his body, which was burrowed beneath layers of blankets that protected him. An overcast sky filtered through the blinds, painting the dark places into shadow and illuminating the bright places in pale blue.

It was the kind of morning when he felt no real need for further sleep, his ever-tired psyche for once sated, but he had no incentive to leave his lovely cocoon. A morning like this deserved a great day to follow, and he couldn't always count on it happening the way it should.

Now a morning like this was nearly perfect. It had one major flaw: Shikamaru had to experience it alone. Of course, when he sighed and snuggled deeper into his shell of comforters and sheets, Temari cuddled close against him, reminding him she was there, and smiled groggily at him, eyelids hooded with sleep. "Good morning." She whispered.

He kissed her gently. "Yeah, it is."


	30. Photograph

Note from the Author: For _Furuido _because I live with her and therefore have to keep her somewhat civil. -.-

_Naruto _is the property of Kishimoto.

**Naash: **I don't like mornings either. I hate them with a passion actually. But I like the kind of morning I described here – I had one the other day.

**Unmotivated Genius: **Yeah … I'm a drabble kind of gal.

**Ravensbff: **Thanks, love.

**Invader-Nehima: **It makes me very happy, love:huggles:

**Shikamaru's Hot Honey: **Puppies, huh? Random. Haha.

**Dr. Hairspray: **I like being snuggled!

_**Photograph**_

****Kakashi stood like he was carrying a coffin on his shoulder.

Iruka frowned at the photo, wondering how he had never noticed that before. He remembered taking this, that day he had forced the jounin out of bed and into the park for a picnic. Kakashi had asked him why he had a camera, his tone almost melancholy.

At the time, Iruka had simply thought he was pouting because he had to actually leave the house to be fed, so he'd kissed him on the cheek and said, "For memories." And memories were important to him, considering their line of work. He had albums and albums filled with photos of friends and students that had died long ago, that all he had left of was their photo.

Studying at this picture, the way Kakashi was slumped against a tree, he looked far too old and sad for his age, like he had seen too much of life already and was tired of it. Iruka didn't like it, and he tucked the photo in the back of Kakashi's photo album so that he wouldn't have to see the guilt that was as much a mark on him as the scar on his eye.

Flipping the page, he almost laughed out loud at the still of his favorite genin trying to surprise-attack his favorite jounin. Of course, in the next shot, Kakashi was sitting comfortably on Naruto's back, and Naruto was caught mid-yell, demanding that he be released.

Iruka's smile faded as he turned the sleeve again and found the words "Team Seven" splayed across the top. The first shot was of Naruto and Sasuke standing side-by-side in front of Ichiraku, pretending to like each other for the photo's sake, although anyone who knew them knew they loved each other more than anyone else, despite the time they spent arguing.

When Sasuke left Konoha in search of power, Naruto had been heartbroken – and so had Kakashi. He had failed to keep his team in tact, and Iruka knew that weighed heavily on him, especially since all the people he loved were gone. The Chuunin wished that he could find Sasuke and bring him back, so that Team Seven would be whole again and Kakashi would smile more.

Turning the page, he found a shot of himself tugging down Kakashi's mask as he kissed him. He blushed and slammed the album shut more forcefully than he had intended. How had Kakashi managed to take that anyway? Next time he kissed him, he would have to make sure there were know Kakashi Shadow Clones hanging around.

A flash went off, and Iruka jumped to his feet, kunai in hand. "You're cute when you're embarrassed." Kakashi's eye curved up in a teasing way as he swung the strap of his camera around his finger, leaning against the doorframe.

Iruka cleared his throat. "How long have you been standing there?"

Seriousness returned to the jounin's face. "Long enough to know you feel sorry for me."

Iruka sighed, going to him and wrapping his arms around him. "I just worry."

"I'm happy enough with just you." The silver-haired man replied softly against brown hair. "And," he tugged him in the direction of their bed, playfulness returning. "I can think of fun things to do that would make great pictures."

Iruka winced, allowing himself to be pulled along. "You're not going to sell them to Jiraiya for ideas for his books, are you?"

"Depends."

"On _what_?"

"How much I like them." He said simply. "If I _really _like them, I'm going to keep them for my own personal viewing pleasure."

"Pervert."


	31. Desert

Note from the Author: -.- This story is episode 217's fault. Just so everyone knows. I have a sudden obsession with this pairing that I can't seem to explain, because – after all – I am _the _ShinoKiba fan girl. I confuse myself.

It was supposed to be a drabble, like everything else I write, and was blown _way _out of hand, as always.

**Furuido: **… Or annoy me to no end until one day I just lunge at your throat.

**Naash: **Thank you!

**Invader-Nehima: **My sister is the moody little thing who wanted angst _and _comedy. -.- And yes, you are huggable, because your reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

**Mo de Aries: **Thanks, darling.

**Ravensbff: **Thanks, love.

**Shikamaru's Hot Honey: **o.o I have trouble believing you've never seen this pairing before. It's so freaking popular.

**Hatochan: **Thank _you _for the lovely review that made me feel so great! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

**NeverFall: **I do what I can. Oh, my God – I have to go watch 218 … or 219. I forgot what episode they're on now. Haha.

_**Desert**_

Kankurou lived in a desert. There was sand. There was sun. There was wind. But mostly, there was heat. In Suna, the heat was its own entity – supremacy, a god, with mental presence and the rise and fall that came with emotions. The heat was a stoic being that formed the weather with its mood, and depending on that mood, the people of Suna either relished their comfort or bemoaned their high temperature level.

Kankurou never minded how hot it was. He enjoyed the dry, hard ground and the way the dust kicked up around his feet when he dashed through it; the welcoming smile of a sun that was in the sky all day every day – a constant reality that brought about a spout of hope. He loved this world he called his home.

So his first impression of Konoha was, naturally, not a good one. When he and his siblings attended the Chuunin exams, his first realization was that he couldn't feel the sun on his face. The green foliage above his head thoroughly shaded him from the rays of that benevolent deity and he found himself detesting the cool, clean breeze that was not the hot, sandy wind of Suna.

In reality, he hadn't disliked Konoha anymore than any other place he'd been. But it was so much easier to know he was going to help destroy this place if he didn't like it.

After the failure of that mission, he had been so pleased when Tsunade had requested his team's assistance with the Sasuke retrieval mission. He was itching to apologize for the attempted obliteration of the village he really never hated.

And that was how he first met Kiba.

Now Kiba's first reaction to Kankurou, after the initial gratitude for his help, was dislike, considering his savior was the same boy who had tried to kill his best friend and teammate. They clashed immediately, arguing about no one knows what, but by the time the med ninjas reached them, they realized they were so alike that they called each other "friend."

Kankurou found himself in Konoha more and more often, spending whatever time he wasn't working in visiting Kiba, who quickly became his best – and maybe only – friend. He found solace through everything in him. Eventually, as everyone saw coming, he found himself falling in love.

And by falling in love with Kiba, he fell in love with the place he was from. Konoha became his second home, and he came to adore the rustle of grass as much as he did the sift of sand.

Kankurou lived in a desert. The lush, green land of Konoha was foreign to him but, strangely enough, there was something of which he knew even less.

He stepped out one day, and his foot sunk into a beautiful white _something. _He was so stunned by its sparkling presence that the cold didn't cut through his foot until the next moment, and he recoiled into his friend's house, scowling.

"Don't like the snow?" Kiba joined him, smiling. "It's not so bad, but I guess if you've never felt the cold, it would suck."

Kankurou's nose wrinkled. "Snow, huh? Everyone's been going on about it for days. What's the big deal?"

The dog-lover snorted, took his hand. "Come on. I'll show you."

Trying to ignore his blush, Kankurou let him pull him outside.

His first thought was that the biting of wind was a lot like that of Suna, painfully cold and snowy as opposed to painfully hot and sandy. He didn't mind it – it was refreshing.

Konoha was different when donning a blanket of white. The air was sweet on his tongue, crisp like apples, and the sun shining off the snow gave him that feeling of being in a desert all over again – where was that lush green? It was dead beneath these grains of snow, this frozen, white sand.

Kankurou loved it.

Now there was this lovely place with its lovely white ground and lovely matching sky, a cheery sun that smiled just like at home, and he thought that he wouldn't mind making _this _his home, especially when the boy beside him snuggled up against him, warm breath misting out against his neck.

"My favorite thing about the snow," Kiba murmured, shivering, "is the reason it gives me to find ways to stay warm."

And then they were kissing, standing together out of reach of the cold, and they remained a footprint in this desert where Kiba lived and Kankurou loved.

0

Additional A/N: I was trying to get across the idea that a "desert" defines a place where nothing is growing. :shrugs:


	32. Cry

Note from the Author: Another was-supposed-to-be-a-drabble story. -.- This didn't end like I had expected it to, but to be honest, I hadn't really known how I expected it to end. Haha.

**United Unicorn Society: **I am _so _excited for the end of the fillers. Ask my sister (**_Furuido_**); I've been going crazy for Part Two. I would love to feature Diedara in a story, but unfortunately, I don't read the manga, so I know very little about him. But if you have another pairing you'd like to see, or if you could give me some idea about how Diedara acts, I would love to write a one-shot for you. And thank you for the lovely review by the way! I love reviewers like you – you up my self-esteem by 20, I swear! And I'm sorry this review reply was so long – I went nuts.

**Naash: **It's such a weird pairing and I love it so much! I'm addicted. I'm such a freak. -.- Thanks for the review, love!

_**Cry**_

"Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura's teacup was warm against her leg, and the seaweed green of the drink successfully masked the forest green of her eye. "May I ask you something?"

The one visible eye of her teacher shifted to her face, the frown on his mouth apparent even through his mask. He didn't speak; she would find her words.

She was fourteen, obviously more mature in both physical stature and mental capacity. Her eyes had filled with wisdom for which she was too young, her permanently serious expression already too tired of life.

Naruto had been gone training for almost two years, and she hoped with everything in her that he had stopped crying, as she had. There was no point in sorrow now; it was a useless emotion.

"It's about the mission to the Land of Waves, when we fought Zabuza and Haku."

After Naruto had gone, Kakashi had told Sakura about the Kyuubi, thinking it wise to inform Sakura of her teammate's greatest strength and weakness. She had never been stupid; she had nearly guessed the source of Naruto's power in that battle.

"Kakashi-sensei," her fingers danced lightly across the hot grooves of her cup, "you said that the seal cracks when Naruto's feeling intensely afraid or angry, when he's under a great deal of stress …" she faltered.

"Yes." It was his first verbal response, his encouragement for her to continue.

"Why -?" Her eyes flitted quickly over the sky as she considered how to word her question. "Why did he lose control when he was fighting Haku? What would he have been feeling so strongly in that moment?"

They were quiet as Kakashi carefully chose his words. Sakura knew better than to press him and so waited for him to speak, letting the warm tea caress her mouth and throat with its sweetness as she so patiently sat beside him.

"I think," his words drawled like always when they finally descended into their silence, "that Sasuke brought a feeling out in Naruto that he wasn't familiar with. They were best friends, in a way."

Sakura nodded. "Right." She waited for him to continue, knowing through years of experience that his explanation would come around.

"When Naruto thought Haku had killed Sasuke, he was angry because Sasuke was the only friend he had." His mouth moved slowly, like this speech would take an eternity to deliver. "He was also very afraid, Sakura. Do you know why?"

She nodded shortly, resenting the way he still treated her like a student. "He was afraid to lose Sasuke-kun."

His smile was soft through his mask. "Yes, Sakura. He was afraid to lose him because he loved him."

Her hair whipped as her head turned toward him, startled. She couldn't think of a word to say, and her mouth hung open. She had always been aware that they had been unusually close but it had never occurred to her that they may have been in love. "How did Sasuke-kun feel?" she finally asked quietly. _And why didn't I realize?_

"Well," Kakashi scratched at his head with his index finger, his eye narrowing pensively as his pale face lifted toward the glowing warmth of the sun. "Naruto _made _Sasuke feel. Sasuke, I think, loved Naruto more than Naruto loved Sasuke because Sasuke was that much more alone." His frown reappeared, pronounced in his profile. "I think part of the reason Sasuke left was because he thought he wasn't strong enough for Naruto." His sigh, barely audible, breathed from his lips, his eye clouding with something near sadness or regret. "The only other time the seal cracked was when Naruto went after him."

Sakura's tea was cold against her fingers, her heart sick. "Naruto was angry that he would leave so easily. He was afraid of losing him." She whispered. "And he _did _lose him. No wonder he cries so much."

Kakashi shook his head. "He doesn't cry anymore, Sakura. He ran out of tears."

0

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto's smile was bright as he embraced her, twirling her off her feet. "I've missed you!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing as they spun. "I missed you too, Naruto." She smiled fondly as he set her lightly back on the ground. "How's training with Jiraiya-san been?"

He scowled, half-heartedly because he really quite liked his teacher. "He stole my money to get girls and sake five different times."

"It could have been worse." She pointed out. "It could have been six."

He grinned and hugged her close again. "I really did miss you a lot, Sakura-chan." Her murmured against her pink hair, suddenly serious. "You know, you're the only family I have now."

Her heart twanging painfully at the _now _tacked on the end of his sentence, she held him to her, burying her face against his jacket and finding he still smelled the same – like springtime. Before she thought about it, she said: "Naruto, I'll never leave you, okay? Please don't cry anymore. I love you, you know."

He tensed against the words, afraid of what they meant to him. But slowly, he smiled, and then he laughed, and he danced the startled girl into a confused waltz. "It's nice to know, Sakura-chan!" and then she found she was the one crying.


	33. Cold

Note from the Author: This is the single most underrated pairing in the entirety of Naruto fan fiction. It's _adorable_ and there are only about seven fics for it.

And the prompt for this was the record-breaking cold of Chicago right now. :blows on hands to warm them:

**United Unicorn Society: **Eep! I'm so excited to meet the rest of the Akatsuki! Actually, I'm just excited for part two in general! I promise that when I meet him, I'll write a story about him for you.

**Naash: **-.- That one-shot came out so weird. But it's okay! And it was sad – sadder than I'd meant it to be.

**Ravensbff: **Well, the Konoha Eleven (minus TenTen, who for some reason got screwed out of this arc) are going to the rescue of the Suna kids, and they're all worrying about their friends and Kiba's randomly worrying about Kankurou, and for some reason, I'm currently in love with Kankurou. o.o I don't really understand it either. And I'm flattered that you expect and look forward to my randomness. :hugs:

_**Cold**_

****Neji shoved his half-frozen hands in his pockets, risking a sniffle. He was wearing gloves, but they had no fingers because it was harder to direct weapons when he couldn't use chakra to control them (a lesson learned through experience as opposed to the Academy), but not being able to feel his fingers seemed more than a little counterproductive.

It was one of the coldest days Konoha had felt in years. As the Leaf Village, it assumed a pretty constant climate, warm and comfortable, but this winter, Konoha had taken a turn for the worse, and snow was expected in the next few days.

Neji grimaced as he bent his head against a piercing wind, determined to train despite the weather. Everyone knew he was a great ninja, but his resilience astounded even his teammates on this icy day, especially since his health didn't seem to agree with the cold, and he sniffled again.

"The Hyuuga prodigy has a cold, huh? So he is human!"

The Hyuuga in question scowled. _That voice. _The last voice he wanted to hear right now. Bringing his proud white gaze up from its determined path on the sidewalk, he glared at his cousin's teammate, who was standing before him, grinning. _Kiba._

Kiba was one of those people who are absolutely impossible to be around if one cherishes quiet or calm at all. He was boisterous and, Neji supposed, the perfect company for someone like Hinata, who needed to be constantly reminded of her worth, because Kiba never left anyone feeling forgotten.

What Neji _didn't _understand was why Kiba insisted on pestering _him_. After the Sasuke retrieval mission, Neji had regained consciousness in the hospital to Kiba and Akamaru perched amiably on the end of his bed, and they had smiled at him as he opened his eyes, immediately offering him sanctuary against the silence without forcing him to speak himself.

Ever since, Neji had had a constant companion. If he was out around Konoha, it didn't take Kiba's nose long to find him and for him to fall into step beside him. Neji didn't know why exactly he followed him around, teasing him and talking loudly to himself (since Neji usually refused to justify his words with responses), but he didn't particularly mind. In fact, he'd grown extremely accustomed to, if not fond of, his company.

Except today – today it was cold, and Neji was under the impression he had a fever. The last person he wanted to see – or hear, for that matter, because his ears ached – was Kiba who always had a smile on his face and laughter in his voice.

Only now, upon witnessing the miserable expression on his friend's face, he frowned. "Jeez, should you be training? You don't look so good." He grinned suddenly. "I know just the thing to help." He tugged his wrist, successfully pulling the wearily submissive older boy's hand from his pocket, and grasped it, pulling him along.

Now Neji was sure he had a fever because his face was very hot.

0

"Here," Kiba's smile was proud as he nudged a mug into Neji's pale-than-usual hands.

The Hyuuga lifted his head from where he had uncharacteristically dropped it on the table in his fatigue – Had he really been planning to train? – and wrinkled his nose at the drink. "I don't really do sweet things."

The way Kiba's face fell disappointedly made Neji wince and he found himself lifting the mug to take a sip. It was hot chocolate, but something was different about it, that made it taste sweeter and, in a way, cooler. "Peppermint," the Inuzuka stated as if he read his mind. "It helps clear sinuses."

"How do you know that?" Neji was actually enjoying the drink. The hot liquid made his throat feel better, at least.

"My mom made it for me a lot when I was younger." He shrugged, sitting down across the table from his friend. "I liked it more because I liked feeling like someone cared about me."

Neji smiled, laid his hand over the other boy's. "It's a nice feeling."

0

Additional A/N: Yay for fluffiness! This was fun to write.


	34. Froid

Note from the Author: Apparently, snow inspires me to write crack pairings.

**Cruixe: **Aw, you're so sweet! Thank you.

**Ravensbff: **I remember seeing an episode and thinking, "Huh. That'd be a weird pairing." So I looked it up and I read a couple stories, and I just fell in love with it. There are seriously only, like, seven stories for it though.

**Dr. Hairspray: **How I've missed you! I was wondering about your stories the other day, because I was thinking about that very strange Neji and Itachi story you were writing that made me giggle so much, and then I missed you even more:huggles: Thank you for the lovely review; it made me smile!

**Naash: **Thank you. :huggles:

**Froid**

Snowflakes settled in the cradle of the long eyelashes of Hyuuga Hinate. The white of the ice complemented the opaque blank of her eyes, and she closed them, allowing the pretty, cracked things to melt against her porcelain skin.

Uchiha Sasuke frowned in her direction, watching the snow decorate the dark strands of her hair like faeries kissing her, giving themselves as gifts. "It's cold." His voice sounded much softer than he ever thought it could, and the ridiculously obvious content of his statement made him want to take a kunai to himself.

But her pouting pale lips curled up at the corners in a gentle smile. Her head lifted toward a white sky, eyes unopened. "Yes, it is." Her tone was quiet, and the soprano song continued: "It's lovely." Slowly, her eyelashes fluttered, brushing up against her skin as she turned toward him. "I'm sorry; did you need anything?" The kind innocence of her voice melted him a little, and he couldn't imagine how she hadn't realized the way he looked at her.

"No," was his whisper, and he couldn't bring himself to resist touching her hand, squeezing it affectionately.

Her fingers were warm, despite the weather, and her hair was soft against his neck when her head settled there. "Is this okay?" The bashful charm of her meek presence never seized to amaze him. When he nodded, she said, "It's cold."

His smile was soft when he kissed her. "It's lovely."


	35. Medium

Note from the Author: Request for **_United Unicorn Society. _**Both characters are probably a little OOC, but I did my best. This became, somehow, an AU. O.o Hope no one minds.

**Medium**

Itachi's eyebrow lifted at the swan that lighted on his saucer. His frown properly conveyed his silent question: _What is the purpose of this?_

Deidara's delighted giggle echoed proudly around his coffee cup as he sipped. "Origami," he explained, picking up the paper bird between two fingers and stroking it lovingly. "It's my latest passion. They're so beautiful; simple little works of art."

Itachi exhaled through his nose in something near a snort. "Art."

Deidara's tossed his head indignantly, his blonde hair revealing the eye it hid and then curtaining it again. "Don't say it so disdainfully. Art makes the world beautiful."

"This coming from a man who makes a living as a hit man," Itachi's retort was in a monotone.

"_I_, unlike you, do not _just _kill people." The frazzled haughtiness of Deidara's voice was low, their subject matter clearly confidential as he leaned forward. "_I _am the greatest criminal explosives expert in the _country_. The government would kill to get their hands on me."

"Yet the world is beautiful."

He sighed, settling against the straight-backed chair, gaze turned toward the window. It was a particularly dreary day, all grey skies and cold breeze. The rain fell in an uncomfortable mist that made one feel sticky, drizzling down the windowpanes of the café in a fog. "Fire is a work of art." His voice was thoughtful. "The way the debris comes floating down, ignited, then smothered – It's beautiful. Explosions are just another medium."

Itachi's mug clinked against his saucer, and he lifted the origami swam, studying it carefully, "Another medium."

Deidara's gaze drifted back to him, the twitching upward of his lips marring his insistent frown. "You're just a medium yourself."

The pale fingers placed the little bird on the windowsill, a bright hopeful thing on such a dismal backdrop. "_I _am." The stress was on the 'I,' not quite a question but close enough to need an answer.

Deidara's eyes softened, as did his voice when his lips slowly moved. "You're just a work of art." He settled his chin on his hand, tapping the edge of the porcelain saucer with his spoon. "And don't we all know you're beautiful."


	36. Ribbon

Note from the Author: My prompts are random – we have come to expect this, no? I haven't written a NejiHina in a while – I missed them.

**Guardian of Atlantis: **Ah! Sorry, and thank you!

**Naash: **It's not a pairing I've ever tried before, so I'm glad you liked it!

**CaveDwellers: **I don't like SasuTen either, but it was a request – and I'm always open for random crack pairings.

**Ravensbff: **You're _uber _special!

**Amaterasu-chan:** -.- KakaTen. That is a very intimidating pairing.

**Shikamaru's Hot Honey: **O.O

_**Ribbon**_

****"TenTen, what _is _that?" Neji wouldn't usually bother asking, but with the way she kept flipping her hand as she lifted her teacup, it sparkled in the sunlight that peered through the window, annoying his keen eyes.

"Oh," she laughed lightly, holding her left arm out for him, brandishing the glittering green ribbon that was tied in a bow around her thin wrist. "I guess Lee realized that Sakura will never like him as anything more than a friend." Her smile was soft as her fingers ran over the gift, drawing it back toward her. "At the same time, I guess he noticed me."

"What's that have to do with the ribbon?"

"He gave it to me to symbolize our 'undying love.'" She giggled, signifying that those were _his _words. "He said that it was an old tradition that he read about. A man would give the woman he loved a ribbon to show the world that she was his, and as long as the ribbon didn't break, their love was true." She paused to sip her tea, then, swallowing, continued, "While I disagree with the anti-feminism of that, it's kind of a sweet gesture."

Her companion didn't answer, and she shrugged, figuring the subject dropped, and they finished their tea in silence.

0

Neji paused to bow to his cousin, who was perched on the front steps of the Hyuuga compound's main house. She smiled fondly, inclining her head in acknowledgment before laying her hand on the step beside her, inviting him to join her. His sandal was careful to avoid her small fingers as it spun to let him rest on the step above her.

"How was tea with TenTen-san?" Her tone, always politely interested, was warm, and Neji could never pretend he hated her when she spoke like that.

"It was lovely, thank you." He found that his words were softer when he was answering Hinata.

Her white eyes focused on the setting sun, reflecting the colors as if they were mirrors. "I'm glad." Her gaze shifted to him again when he lifted her hand from its position on the stone, settling it on his knee. She stared at his fingers as they died a black ribbon around her wrist, her lips parted in confusion, like she was on the verge of questioning him.

The bow was lop-sided, drooping against her pale skin, but she found it adorably sentimental. She lifted her head to look at him. His hair was hanging loose, tumbling forward as he fought to avoid her eyes. "I'll find you a prettier one soon." His voice was barely about a whisper, obviously trying to hide his embarrassment.

"No, it's lovely." Her hand was soft as it brushed the dark strands away from his face. "I love it." Her fingers found his, intertwining them, and he squeezed hers gently, as if he was afraid to break her.

"Promise you'll never take it off."

She smiled, admiring the ribbon for its simplicity, the loving way it hugged her wrist, and wondered how he thought she would ever be able to. "You don't even need to ask."


	37. Focus

Note from the Author: This was a request from **_Ravensbff_ – **an AU, I know. But it was fun to write, and I hope it's enjoyable. (This is partially based on a true story – not with Neji and Gaara, mind you.)

**Ravensbff: **You're _so _uber-special that this one-shot is just for you! I hope you like it!

**Naash: **Thanks, hun!

_**Focus**_

The school cafeteria is empty, as most are at five o'clock in the evening. The tables are lined up like soldiers, empty chairs the muskets on their shoulders. My sneakers shun the floor with a disdainful squeak as I make my way to the far table, choosing a remote corner on which to spread my belongings, despite the vacancy of the room. A sack lunch – or dinner – and a book. I have never taken much space.

The janitor is dragging a vacuum cleaner across the linoleum, and he never makes a move to use it. Never makes a move to clean up after the small fraction of society that is this school. I return to my book.

The door swings. Girls in matching t-shirts wander through, chattering like birds. The skin of their thighs shines with their fake tans, their running shorts properly named – short. Their giggles are high pitched, their hair is bright. Their shoes slap suddenly against the floor, propelling them across the room in a sprint like their lives matter.

I frown at the words on the page I have been trying to read. I frown again – or continue to frown – at the Burger King bag that drops on the table opposite me. You, looking down at me, have strange eyes, but some would say I have strange eyes too. Of course, I avert mine, studying the difference between your brown paper bag and mine. You have Burger King. I have soup that my sister made. I am eating it cold. The microwave is empty but still seems so occupied.

"Have you seen Lee?" That voice is deep and quiet, almost unsure if you should be questioning me – but far from unsure of you.

My responding "Who?" answers your question without really intending to, and I try to focus on my book. Of course, focus is harder to come by when a beautiful – what a strange word – person is staring at me. Maybe not staring. Studying – evaluating. My mind is reeling. I am quiet.

I am always quiet.

"Why are you here so late?"

Innocent enough. Where else would I go? I want to ask you, but I don't. I am staring at you – or maybe not staring. Maybe glaring, intimidating – failing. I am not frowning, and why am I not frowning? Of course, it's no smile. When did I last smile?

"Would you mind if I sit here?" You are already sitting. Under the edge of my book, I notice your soccer cleats, and I remember hearing your name over the intercom. You score goals. You're fast. You're unstoppable. I feel strange that I know you, and my stomach twists because you don't know me.

You're eating a veggie burger. That's an honors physics book upon which your nimble fingers rest. You're successful. I remember how they all smile at you. Why can't I smile at you?

"Do you take honors lit, Gaara?"

My heart explodes. I can feel my ventricles hanging by threads against my ribs. You know me. You know me. And my throat begins to close like an elevator door. "Yes," is all that escapes, like a hand catching it before pulling back quickly as not to get smashed.

"I'm tutoring my cousin in that class." Your face twitches as if your mouth is trying to suppress a scowl. "What are you studying?"

I try desperately to find any vocal power. Is there a power button to my vocal chords? There should be. I reference J.D. Salinger in a whisper. And "Neji." I say your name. Quietly. Because I know you. Because you know me. When did we meet? My mind is a projector, counting down to a film that won't play.

Anti-climax.

You're standing. Your uncertainty shows in the furrow of your brow over your strange white eyes as you stare at me, no longer evaluating. You seem to have decided. "Do you eat here by yourself everyday?"

I nod. I cannot speak again. Not through will power alone. My tongue cowers. Your beauty intimidates.

"Would you mind having company?" You don't smile. From the soft downturn of your lips, you seem to never smile. That's okay. Smiling wouldn't suit you.

I shake my head. No, I wouldn't mind. Is my heart recovering? It seems to be climbing back to its position beneath my chest plate, stitching itself back together.

You're walking away, your cleats clicking. A boy in green is waiting, and I realize I do indeed know Lee. Just when I think you have forgotten, you turn. "Tomorrow, then?"

I nod, too eagerly, I think. Your lips twitch upward, and you're gone.

I cannot focus now.


	38. Mature

Note from the Author: This was terribly difficult. Hard to write. A request for_ **Amaterasu-chan. **_I'm sorry, **_Furuido._**

_**Mature**_

Freckles. They decorated her shoulders, her back, her stomach. They danced down her legs like the footprints of bleeding men. They pierced her earlobes, smothered her nose, kissed her mouth. They were soft, nearly unnoticeable.

But he knew better. He had seen her fight, seen her fall, seen her mouth in its joy as she laughed, her eyes soft with despair. He had been drunk on her beauty, on the grace she refused to recognize in herself – because femininity was a weakness.

Her giggles were uselessly demeaning, she declared once. There was no reason she couldn't fight more easily than flirt her way out of danger. She hated men, she told him, even as she smiled teasingly. Chauvinism equaled degradation.

Her hand was always light on his knee, and when it settled there, he knew she would be ignoring him for a moment. The freckle placed secretly on the bend of her thumb called to him as she looked away.

A moment like this was the first time he kissed her. Gently, his lips, through his mask, touched that freckle, and something in him jumped. His heart off a cliff, maybe. Because the condescension in her knowing gaze was a suicide he gladly committed.

She was so much older when she looked at him like that. He felt less guilty, ore maybe more justified. With her hair falling around her shoulders, her lashes catching the light, her maturity exploded in his sight.

He wished he could avert his gaze. But instead, he was tugging down his mask, pressing his lips to the prominent freckle on her jaw, watching her childhood fade away beneath his love. Her laughter seemed to hop into the trees as it ran away forever.


	39. Facade

Note from the Author: Yes, I was on a roll with the one-shots this week – thank you for asking. This was not intended to be a pairing, but I think it turned out that way anyway because I suck at living. Look at this as you would like to. No flames. If I get a flame on this, I will not be pretty. I am known for making people cry because I'm mean.

_**Façade**_

****Her shoes clatter. I clatter too, watching her. Bare feet, stained bronze with sun, crawl under a blanket of desert. She smiles at me over her shoulder, and her toes twist. Is that my heart twisting too? Why are her soft brown limbs, with their stretching, lazy curves, controlling my body?

She rarely drops her façade like this. She has a defense system much stronger than sand. Her self-preservation is far less intense than her eyes, but it is formidable nonetheless. Timidly, she embraces me, and I wonder where that beautiful confidence is now. It fades in my presence, and I am not naïve enough to not know why.

With my lips against her collarbone, I feel drunk on the pretty floral of her perfume, that seems so out-of-place in this land with no flowers. She is wilting her, but I try to keep her in bloom. Closing my eyes, I let my arms surround her, creating a sphere in which this desert cannot damage here.

The curl of her lips is warm as they press to my forehead. You ask if I'm alright. I ignore your concern for me and ask when someone was last concerned for you.

0

Note from the Author: I like French words.


	40. Endings

Note from the Author: It's been a while since I wrote a SasuNaruSasu anything.

_**Endings**_

****A lot of stories don't have happy endings.

Most people are mostly aware of that. Most people understand that this is only one person who will not live happily ever after. That's how stories work. Most get all – one gets nothing.

That is how life has been for me. I am no Prince Charming and certainly no damsel-in-distress. I have been hiding inside obnoxious overcompensation for years.

They tell me to stop – these people who get happy endings. They tell me not to act this way, but not because they _care_. No, not because they even realize that I am the witch or the wicked stepmother or the big bad wolf, the one that dies in the end, alone.

They tell me to stop because _I _ruin _their _happy endings. They don't want my presence to be the stain on their bleached world.

This corner is my own. There is always the part of a room that falls in shadow, and that is where I dwell. I am not some strange person with twisted thoughts and dark jokes. I have a heart swelling with love I am not allowed to express. I have a bright smile whose light refuses to pierce the blackness – or maybe it simply can't do it.

I cling to a kind word, a "How are you?" I latch onto any acknowledgment of my presence. They don't come often. And what percentage of that small percentage is sincere?

_You _are supposed to have a happy ending. I know that, watching you. How I envy you. How I have always envied you. But my pride puffs so that you will never know that. My mind curtains itself with a scoff, and I mock you as everyone mocks me.

Because I want to be like you. You're Prince Charming. You're the knight on a fiery steed. I sound like a girl in my head when I think of you, but like a mouse trying to be a lion when I speak of you.

Your frown is imprinted in my mind. You joined my corner. You didn't tell me to die, to seize, to _end_. You told me to stop pretending. I wasn't fooling anyone.

And I press my face against your shirt, shaking with my sobs, because I had foold everyone but you.


	41. Homesick

Note from the Author: Now before any of you say anything – yes, it is another of my most random pairings that I find utterly adorable. You're just lucky I haven't started writing KankyGaa fics yet.

_**Homesick**_

When someone fell in love with a ninja, his or her life was made up of happy moments between missions and anxious moments during missions. When one's shinobi lover is home, it's all relief and affection. And as soon as he or she steps from the gates, love degenerates – or regenerates – into worry.

Some people had constitutions much too weak to deal with this stress. Hyuuga Neji was not proud to say that he was very close to that border. It was bad enough when his friends were away on missions. He hated not being there to protect them.

Especially Shikamaru, but everyone knew how in love he was with him. Shikamaru was maybe the most important person in his life, and he tried with everything in him to be on every mission he had.

It didn't always work out that way, though. There were weeks of anxiety when Neji was all by useless worrying about Shikamaru. He never voiced his fears, never even outwardly exhibited the, but those who knew the focused boy knew that the level of distraction about him was his version of stress.

On the days Shikamaru was supposed to return from his missions, Neji could always be found lingering outside the gate. Those on guard duty knew he was simply keeping their reunion private, keeping the relieved smile for Shikamaru's eyes alone.

And when the Chuunin did appear on the path, sometimes injured but usually just weary, Neji always did smile, and they embraced there on the threshold of Konoha, Shikamaru's weight, his warmth, felt like love, and his lips were like a silent, soft "I missed you" against his own. Everything about the way his shoulders relaxed, his hands laced on Neji's back, his eyes fluttering closed, confessed how homesick he had been, and how lovely it felt to be back.

And holding onto him like that, Neji always realized that he had been homesick, too.

0

Note from the Author: Jesus, I'm tired of typing. I'm glad this is the last one.


	42. Victory

Note from the Author: So I actually got a review that made me so furious that I replied to it _personally_ because it didn't deserve a spot with all of my lovely reviewing friends in the actual fic.

This is dedicated to **_Naash_** who was my 150th Shinobi Sparkles review! I'm sorry this didn't come out quite as sad as you probably hoped. But it's spring, the sun is shining every day, and I'm having trouble keeping the smile off my face.

**Naash: **It's a great couple, isn't it? Thank you for the lovely compliments – you always make me blush.

**Ravensbff: **You're welcome, darling. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Angst! It's my favorite. Haha. As for the whole loving-ShikaNeji- I did the same thing. I read a random fic and fell in love with it.

**Mizutamari-chan: **You're so sweet! Thank you very much for the compliments and the cookie!

**LeeLover09: **I think I visibly twitched at that. I wouldn't even know where to start. O.o

**Shikamaru's Hot Honey: **I think I actually say Neji and Gaara in Chapter 37. Haha. But 38 is KakaTen, and 39 is GaaTema.

**Azab: **Unfortunately, I watch the anime and don't read the manga, so I haven't met Sai yet. The time skip just started for me.

**CaveDwellers: **I do a lot of requests, and some of my more random pairings come for that. For example, I don't like sensei-student pairings. They kind of freak me out with all their pedophilia. But there are only four pairings I refuse to write: SasuSaku, NaruHina, ShikaIno, and NejiTen. So if it's not one of those, I'll write it. Haha. And thank you for the review!

_**Victory**_

The Hokage hat still smelled like Tsunade.

Naruto smiled at the sent of jasmine that hung so closely around the clothing. It was strange that it should smell so much like her, considering how seldom she wore it. She said it was stuffy, that she wasn't so old that she should cover herself completely yet.

It had only been in her last few years that she had worn it everyday. Naruto had never thought her face as beautiful as beneath the wide brim of that hat. It was in those years that she was to him not Granny Tsunade, but Hokage-sama.

And now she was hidden deep underground somewhere, beside Jiraiya, sleeping for eternity. When she died, there had been a smile on her lips, like she was suddenly alright with it, especially when the elders had sworn Naruto would succeed her.

And he did. Never had a Hokage smiled like Naruto did now, so proudly. He realized that the shoes into which he was stepping, the robe into which he was shrugging; they were made large by the memory of those who had worn them before him.

But he would not put these robes to shame. He would make proud those faces carved into the mountainside. He would engrave his own name into the hearts and memories of his villagers.

His eyes had darkened a shade in the past few years, and the effect gave him a distinct maturity as he gazed at himself in the mirror. He was eighteen years old, the youngest Hokage to yet be appointed, and his age was reflected in his eager smile, smooth face, lanky frame. He had grown taller, and stood almost a head about most of his companions.

The children gazed in awe at him, and his friends wondered when they thought him a monster because, if anything, he was like a puppy – all excitement, affection, determination.

Of course he was inexperienced, but he was suddenly alright with admitting this. He had a family of hundreds lifting him up to the height of those mountains.

His eyes left his own reflection to gaze at that of his friend, who stood smiling proudly in the doorway. "You've come a long way, Hokage-sama." Her voice was soft, sweet, and her pink hair swayed as she moved toward him. "I never really thought this day would come."

He grinned at her. "Sakura-chan, I was the only one who thought I would make it this far."

Her head rested on his shoulder, and she pressed against him in an embrace, sisterly and affectionate. "No, there was another who believed in you." She paused. "Do you miss him, Naruto?"

His eyes softened with something near sadness, and he noticed how tired his frown made him look. "I wonder sometimes what he would think if he could see me today."

"I'm sure he sees you, Naruto." Her whispered assurance quaked with emotion. "I'm sure he's so proud of you."

0

The village cemetery, stationed directly before the Hokage faces, was small. The graves made here were for those who died of natural causes, and the numbers were few, since most ninjas died in action. Seldom, and only with permission from the Hokage, did a person make their way here after death if they were killed in battle. Usually, bodies were buried in a cemetery outside of the village, with no identification except a cross, and their names were carved on the stone that seemed to be getting so cluttered.

Naruto stood before the grave of his best friend in this small cemetery, wondering what had happened that he was alive and Sasuke was dead.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way, Sasuke." He said it every time he came here, like it would change something, like it would make a difference.

The tombstone read "Uchiha Sasuke", his date of birth and death carved neatly beneath it. On the grass, which had grown brown as Naruto tread constantly on it, lay only his flowers.

"Were you really a traitor, Sasuke?" he whispered, wondering why he bothered to ask. "Why did you leave? Why did you come back?" He knelt down, his fingers running over the cool familiar indentations of his friend's name. "Sasuke, why did I have to kill you?"

A breeze came up, delivering him from his sadness, carrying the scent of jasmine. Somewhere nearby, a child shrieked with laughter and, from the training grounds, he could hear the _thunk _of kunai meeting wood. The smell of ramen drifted toward him, Ichiraku busy with the lunchtime crowd. A smile lighted softly on his mouth as he recognized the activity of the village – _his _village – of Konoha.

He adjusted the brim of the Hokage hat, climbing to his feet. "Well, Sasuke. It looks like I finally beat you."


	43. Chipmunk

Note from the Author: _Whoa. _Yeah, I'm actually back with a SasuNaru one-shot. I surprise myself. I'm working like crazy on my revisions for An Illusion of Consciousness, so those of you who read it, keep your pants … or skirts on. And since I've been feeling ultra-lazy lately, I'm just going to reply to reviews personally from now on. Thank you to **Trulywicked, Ravensbff, Naash, LeeLover09, **and **CaveDwellers** for the lovely reviews.

Explanation behind this one-shot: I had my wisdom teeth pulled last week.

_**Chipmunk**_

Sasuke's mood could be determined by the behavior of his brow. His left eyebrow shot to his hairline and tilted down when he was confused, an expression only Naruto usually saw, because he was the only one who could really befuddle the Uchiha with his complete lack of common sense.

There was also the right eyebrow twitch, which appeared in instances of extreme annoyance, when Kakashi mocked him or when he witnessed Naruto flirting with Sakura, so this expression could be witnessed almost daily.

His anxiety looked uncannily like his irritation, but his brown creased into a thousand little lines, and his dark eyes took on a strange shimmer. It was another look Naruto was privileged to witness the most because it reared itself usually when the hyperactive boy was in danger.

Right now, though, none of these expressions dominated the stoic face. Instead, both eyebrows had lifted in amusement, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk, as he leaned against the doorway of Naruto's bedroom, an icepack sagging in his hand. "You look like a chipmunk, you know."

The intimidation that Naruto had intended to extend through his glare was lost to the fact that his swollen cheeks did give him the appearance of the furry rodent. The muffled slur of his numbed tongue as he spoke didn't help his cause. "Yer not s'pp'sd ta make f'n of peopl' in pain, ya know."

Sasuke's expression gave only slightly as he made his way into the room and descended lightly onto the edge of his bed. "I still can't believe you fell for Tsunade and Iruka tricking you into getting your teeth pulled. Oh, wait," he paused for effect, smirk returning. "Yes, I can."

Naruto glowered, rolling away from him, and crossed his arms, pouting. "Shuddup, Sas'ke." He mumbled, uncomfortably aware of his sore gums.

The Uchiha frowned, pulling him back onto his back. "Don't put pressure on it, stupid. You'll make it worse." Gently, he pressed the icepack to the distended whiskers on his oversized cheek. "Why do you only have one icepack? You get hurt often enough to need at least three."

Naruto wasn't really listening. His eyes closed, and he leaned comfortably into the cold, sighing contently. "Nothin' 'ver hurts dis long fer me."

"You'll feel better tomorrow." Sasuke offered awkwardly, brushing blonde strands from his face affectionately. "Sakura's bringing another icepack for you when she comes later." His tone shifted to something near gentle, the icepack from one cheek to the other. "Does this help any?"

"Yeah," the blue of his eyes reappeared from beneath his eyelids, found Sasuke's. "You're not gonna leave, right?" When he shook his head, the Uzumaki boy tried pathetically to smile, and Sasuke would have laughed if it wasn't so cute and, you know, if Sasuke ever laughed. "Good," he paused, readjusted his jaw like it made it feel better. "Think Sak'ra-chan's gonn' freak out'f yer layin' wif me when she gits here?"

"Who cares?" Sasuke was already throwing himself gingerly over Naruto's legs and down beside him, planting a kiss on the golden head. "How about getting some sleep? Trying to talk is only going to make it feel worse."

Naruto's sigh was happy when he snuggled against the other boy. "R'mind me to kick yer ass when I feel better."

"Why?"

"Fer makin' fun of ma face!" His indignation was comical.

Okay. He _had _to say. "Are the chipmunk's feelings hurt?"

Of course, he shouldn't really have been surprised that Naruto wasn't in so much pain that he couldn't kick him off the bed.


	44. Strength

Note from the Author: So yeah – the latest arc in the Naruto super fun times. We all know Kankurou's all worried about Gaara and whatnot, but why is Temari not getting any screen time? Why don't we ever hear about how Temari's feeling? And yes, she is out-of-character. She's supposed to be.

_**Strength**_

****She drops her head onto her hand, pressing her eyes to her palm. Her other hand is holding tightly to her brother's, desperately trying to keep contact. She feels so alone in this moment, and nothing has ever been so hopeless, it seems.

The gods are laughing at her.

Her eyelids close thankfully, resting against the darkness of her skin. They have been open and in use for too many long hours now. The dirt on her toes reminds her that she hasn't bathed since she returned home, that she has been in the hospital perpetually for days.

She has to be strong, even now.

There is nothing for it but to wait. She is not allowed to act. She is too emotionally-involved, they tell her. She disagreed vehemently. When has she ever become emotionally-involved?

Her life has become entwined with those of her siblings. She is their mother as much as their sister and she cannot bear to think of losing these boys she reared. One of them fails beside her, she can feel his heart beating more slowly through the grip of his fingers. The other she fears is already lost. He is far away, beyond her sight, beyond her care, and she cannot save him because she is too emotionally-involved.

She has grown accustomed to not being alone, she realizes. She has become dependent upon one boy's playful bullying, the other's cool affection. She has become used to them being nearby for her to protect and, suddenly, it seems like they will never be here again.

Her fingers are wet, and she lifts her face, shocked to realize that she is crying. Never have tears left her eyes, and now her mouth twists in a sob, and she falls forward against the sheet of the hospital bed, her shoulders racking. Suddenly, a numbing emptiness is trailing through her blood. It seems to consume her.

She is not strong enough.

"I don't want to be alone." Even her voice shakes now. She is trembling with fear and shame, and it fills the emptiness that she has never felt before. It feels like warmth and color and weakness and she feels real and alive and utterly not strong as she weeps. "I don't want to be alone."

"You're not alone, Temari."

Her head whips up, and she doesn't think to be ashamed as her tears splatter across his skin. He is smiling at her. She can't bring her jaw to stop quivering. Her knees wobble as she stands, and she wonders if she meant to fall upon him in an embrace or if her legs have just given out. "I thought I lost you too, Kankurou." Her relief pours from her lips as she kisses his forehead, his nose, as she had when they were young.

"We haven't lost him yet, Temari." His face is clear, a canvas with no paint for the first time in years. His voice is barely a whisper. "Don't give up on him."

She presses her face to his bare shoulder. "If I give up on you two, I give up on me."


	45. Light

Note from the Author: No pairings, I swear it.

Heat and darkness. A seeming contradiction. Why should skin prickle with sweat when the sun is not shining?

The stars are dim. It is too warm for light. They bathe in the cold of the universe, throwing off the suffocating summertime.

He cannot sleep. He does not sleep. He fears the fire behind his eyelids; the moon bears down upon him in his fever. He wonders when he last saw rest. How does he continue?

The wind over Suna is hot, and the sand slaps sharply against his bare arms, and he lets it, savoring the fleeting coolness it brings him, the evanescent company. It seems to represent all the love he has felt in his life, and now it disappears. Perspiration trickles across the crimson tattoo on his forehead, and his vein throbs suddenly as the monster inside him begs again to be released.

His fingers twist in his red hair, and he draws in deep thick breaths that offer no real oxygen. It is too hot to expect to inhale freely, comfortably. His brain is fizzling with bloodlust, and he cowers, gritting his teeth. It sounds loud in his ears.

A cool hand descends, settles lightly on the back of his neck, and the scent of eucalyptus helps him to recognize her through the darkness. "S'alright, Gaara," her voice is husky with sleep. "We're here."

He comes back to himself, collapsing against his sister, who holds him close, stroking his cheek, her lips against his hair. Kankurou's hand grasps his, and Gaara's knuckles are white with an attempt to stay connected to his brother.

It is still hot, but it seems no longer dark. Suddenly, he feels he can breathe.


	46. Knight

Note from the Author: This is only a pairing if you want it to be. I don't care either way.

**Knight**

His dark hair is splayed across his white pillow. Such a stark contrast seems impossible. A porcelain hand is resting gently on the blanket, looking so harmless compared to its daytime activity – the blood it draws, the lives it ends. Now it lies at peace, at least until its next moment in battle.

His bed is as neat as he is; the blankets lay flat, not tangled around him, and he is so still – like death – but for the steady rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are closed, dark lashes brushing at his pale skin, another contradiction.

Somehow this quiet boy is different in his unconsciousness. The frown has smoothed from his mouth. He has no want or reason to intimidate the darkness. His face, in its constant seriousness, is calm, less stern. He seems almost innocent, like life hasn't yet taken its toll on him.

He has seen too much already. He is too young for the lines that have formed lightly on his brow. His scowl seems so permanent. He is so afraid to be happy, and he is afraid to love. He cannot afford to let anyone into his heart again.

But when she perches lightly on the edge of his bed, and meekly she offers, in her soprano voice, his name, "Neji-nii-san?" he wakes immediately. Pulling himself up, he leans on his hand, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and he looks so young. "Did you have another nightmare, Hinata-sama?"

She nods, her gaze averted. Where else does she have to go when she is afraid? she wonders, and waits for him to send her off, telling her to go back to bed, to grow up.

As always, though, he tosses the corner of his blanket back, and allows her head room beside his on the pillow, and their dark hair mingles against the white sheets as she nestles beside him, pretending he is the little boy that used to protect her from her nightmares, but knowing very well that he is now the man the will always protect her.


	47. Fetch

Note from the Author: This really wasn't meant to be a pairing, but if you want to look at it that way, go for it. I've just been having a lot of fun writing lately, trying a new style.

**Fetch**

The leaves rustle angrily at the chakra-laced sandals that kick off their branches, disturbing their reverie. The air is warm, full of the pleasance of summertime, and the stars are bright with joy, the moon like a streetlamp through the trees.

He crouches on one branch before springing to the next, evading his opponent, giving the chase to the darkness, zigzagging, leaping up and down, away and back, throwing off the trail, mixing himself up as much as his adversary.

He pauses in the shade of an oak, low to the ground, and draws in deep breaths, his fingers splayed on the bark, unnecessarily supporting himself because he is nowhere near tired yet.

He grins at the sound of feet on branches, and nearly laughs when he realizes that now he has two enemies. But he can win, and he knows it, and his feet leave the ground in a spurt of chakra.

He is in the canopy again, ducking in and out and around wide branches and thick foliage, disturbing the leaves repeatedly, leaving many floating slowly in descent as he disappears in a blurred leap.

Kunai whiz by suddenly, and he is surprised, yet not at all, that he has been found so soon. Tactics change; it is no longer a chase. He turns, plants his feet firmly on the branch upon which he has landed.

His opponent is invisible, and he is cautious. He backs against the tree trunk, sniffs the air. One scent is fresh, nearby; and he recognizes it as he would his own. The other is far too close for comfort. He is pinned, then, without warning, and his opponent doesn't smile. He has never smiled, but that is his most endearing quality. "I caught you, Kiba." His voice is low, the kunai in his hand cool against tan skin.

Kiba's grin returns full force as Akamaru comes to his side, tail wagging. "Yeah, Shino. You usually do."


	48. Hate?

Note from the Author: … I love this pairing.

**Hate?**

His blanket tangles around his body, his arm flung off the edge of his bed. His breaths are deep, on the verge of being snores, and there is a wheeze on the end of them.

The window above him is broken, and glass still litters the floor. In fact, the culprit rock lays mockingly on the wood planks, a constant reminder of the villagers' feelings for him.

Through that window, the night air leaks, and the broken air conditioner spurts momentarily in the corner before giving up and dying completely. The air is sticky, and perspiration coats the boy's face, shining in the summer moonlight.

His expression is pained, brow wrinkled; maybe in agony, maybe in grief. Sometimes, a whimper escapes his lips, and he writhes, unable to handle his own dreams.

That is when a hand falls lightly on his shoulder, and he is shaken awake, "Naruto."

Then his eyelids lift, and his blue gaze focuses sleepily on a face full of sympathy. "Why do they hate me, Sasuke?" His whisper is hoarse, and he cowers, his forehead pressed against the knee beside him on his bed.

Sasuke's fingers comb through the wet blonde locks, his dark head shaking. "How should I know?" He murmured.

Naruto looks at him, afraid he'll disappear if he doesn't. "I'm glad you don't."


	49. Jump

Note from the Author: This is for my sister, **Furuido,** because she hasn't read my one-shots since I did that KakaTen request. -.-

**Jump**

Her feet are beautiful. Over his head soars any real thought because he is enamored with her lovely porcelain feet. She is a China doll with cool, flawless skin. She is still.

That is the most wonderful part.

Her feet remain, poised on their toes – she is dancing ballet – motionless. She is statuesque! – picturesque! – grotesque? No, _he _is grotesque. _She _is perfect.

Perfection has blanketed her. She is coated with no flaws. She is a painting, and he cannot see the strokes. She is frozen, strangely cool. When has her heated tone gone? She is different.

He likes it, and he does not. Her eyes are not angry, and she does not hurt him with her words. But why does he ache so? A throb in his chest, a desperate strive to escapes from the solitary confinement of his ribs; his heart reaches for her.

She is moving again, smiling, the picture of soft confidence, and her feet remain bare and beautiful as they nudge into the grass that loves her so. The green blades reach out to her, wanting to be the ones to cushion her pretty toes.

Her pause seems to last forever before she turns, and her perfect lips form perfect words to frame a perfect voice, slowly, it seems. It takes an eternity for the sound waves to bring it to his ears. "Are you coming?"

His ribs may be broken, because his heart has jumped into her hands.


	50. Springtime

Note from the Author: This is pointless, and everyone's OOC, but I loved writing it. Oh, and those of you who live in the Midwest area and are going to Anime Central, let me know so we can yell a "Hello!" to each other there.

This is the last one-shot in _Shinobi Sparkles_, I am afraid. Thank you to everyone who has supported this series, and look out for another compilation, because you know I'm not just done writing one-shots!

**Springtime**

The breeze through Konoha is warm, carrying upon it ramen and wildflowers, the shrieking laughter of playing children and the bustle of life. The births that identify this as springtime seem to jump out from nature, and one is likely to see a flurry of fluffy newborn ducks scuttling after their mother down the street as one is to see a child. Smiles permanently decorate the pale, winter-filled faces of the people, and the joy of summer is leaping into hearts prematurely.

The shinobi are lazing on this beautiful day. Missions are scares; it seems that no one is in danger, and no one is doing wrong. This moment of flawless springtime cannot be tainted with bloodshed. This is an evanescent time, a fleeting minute, that they do not take for granted.

A dandelion falls lightly across Naruto's cheek, brushing like a yellow kiss against his skin. He smiles sleepily from his pillow of grass at Sasuke, whose lethargic fingers are the cause of the flower's affection. He hears a floral sigh, like a breath of wind, and Sakura's cheek rests lightly against his knee, her lovely fluorescent hair blanketing his sunny pants. His eyes turn briefly to the sky before recognizing the elbows beside his head as Shikamaru's, and there is a murmured comment about clouds, and the crunch of potato chips that signify Chouji's presence, then a natural quiet, an undisturbed peace.

The flowers invade his sight again, as Ino's fingers crown Sakura's head so appropriately with cherry blossoms, like this moment to them is forever. This moment will be forever, he thinks, and the thought stays with him as he hauls himself up, his lips upturned at quiet Hinata, giggling softly at the dog that has made himself comfortable in her lap, and quiet Neji beside her, whose fingers are twined in the white fur, pretend that they never hurt this girl he has come to adore. Kiba's grin is not mischievous now, as he throws himself beside his teammate, and Shino does not seem quite so distant now, sitting beside him.

TenTen's laughter is muted, her legs sprawled in the grass, and amusement in her gaze is held just to her eyes, her smile not questioning the seriousness with which Lee thinks he is speaking, his hands gesticulating. Sometimes they light on hers, friendly and familiar, and she lets them remain, before they move off, like a butterfly resting on flowers and startling away.

Naruto's fingers find the dandelion that Sasuke has discarded, and his body falls backward into the grass that cushions him, as the flower possesses his sight. He finds it difficult to concentrate on life right now, with the wind teasing his hair across his forehead and the sun shining warm against his face. The beautiful uselessness of this moment is one he will hold forever, with these people who will never let him be alone again.

"Naruto," Sakura's flowery voice melts his reverie, and her green eyes seem brighter when they turn to him. It is not a question, not meant to request his attention, but spoken as universal. "You'll never change, right?"

Sasuke's dark eyes turn to his face, and the look in them is more gentle than usual, less guarded. His pale fingers brush absently at a golden strand of hair that has fallen across a blue eye. "No, he won't, Sakura." His voice is soft, almost affectionate. "If he changes, the whole world will have to change too."

Naruto smiles, his arm straining to swipe the dandelion's petals across his best friend's porcelain cheek, and it seems suddenly that words would ruin everything so he stays quiet. Lee has stopped speaking, and TenTen is humming softly, picking lightly at the grass around her sandaled feet. Akamaru has left Hinata's lap in favor of the crook of Kiba's arm, and the white eyes of the shy girl have closed, her cheek nestled softly against her cousin's shoulder companionably; a ghost of a smile has settled contently on his lips as he braces himself against the ground on his arms. Kiba's eyes are raised to his other teammate's face, lips forming words that seem too quiet to come from the flamboyant boy. It is evident, even through his glasses, that Shino is paying close attention, as if he is saying the most important thing in the world.

They recognize the significance of this moment. This may be the last day they are all together. Tomorrow may not be so beautiful that the world is on hold. Tomorrow, maybe they will have to go back to being saviors. Who knows how long before they all must make that ultimate sacrifice? Tomorrow, maybe Neji will not be here for Hinata to lean on, or Ino will not be making flower crowns for Sakura. Tomorrow, maybe they will be attending the funerals of their teammates.

But tomorrow doesn't matter just now, and something possesses Naruto's fingers to twist in the blue cotton of Sasuke's shirt, the pink wisps of Sakura's hair, silently imploring that they never leave him. They seem to understand, and they seem to melt together, but maybe that is just Naruto's sleepy eyes falling closed.

The breeze through Konoha is warm, carrying upon it potato chips and Sakura blossoms, the quiet hum of an alto kunoichi and the soft panting of a happy dog. The lives that identify this as springtime do not so much jump from nature as sink quietly into it, accepting that this moment may be the last and all must leave a tattoo upon the earth. A group of friends smile their joy, not prematurely, but maybe a little too late, and they each are busy stitching their names into each other's hearts.


End file.
